


For His Favour

by knw



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Ensemble Cast, Fencing, Fuji Family Feels, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Hyotei - Freeform, M/M, Rikkai Dai, Seigaku, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-26
Updated: 2007-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knw/pseuds/knw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cast of tenipuri swap rackets for epées in this fencing AU.</p><p>Fuji is a rival from Tezuka's past, but there seems to be more than just fencing at stake in the latest tournament.</p><p>(Re-posted & backdated.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	For His Favour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kishmet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishmet/gifts).



> This was originally written and posted on LJ in a secret santa exchange back in 2007.

"There's been another last minute entrant," Inui reported as he came in, a single, folded sheet of paper held aloft for them to see. The sun glinted on his glasses as he adjusted them, prolonging the suspense before he announced, "Fuji Syuusuke."

Tezuka, to his credit, didn't bat an eyelash though he was acutely aware of Echizen stiffening at his side. Fuji was impossible on so very many levels, entirely unpredictable and even volatile on occasion. Tezuka was the only one with any extensive previous experience of him – a rivalry and best friendship in childhood, where the rivalry had won out. For the others, Fuji had been unknown until he'd defeated Atobe Keigo and then abruptly departed rather than complete the tournament the previous year. Such behaviour in a high school tournament was serious business. He'd come from outside the area and steamrolled the best; unable to participate and deprived of an opportunity to face Fuji due to being in middle school, Echizen had taken it personally. Tezuka was only glad neither Kaidoh nor Momoshiro was there to hear the news.

Oishi broke off his duel with Kikumaru, both of them lowering their epées. A concerned frown creased his features as he verified, "He's back?"

"He didn't face the person he wanted last time," Inui said, gaze fixed on Tezuka.

Oishi's frown deepened, "But Tezuka can't—"

Tezuka held up a hand, forestalling what Oishi was about to say. The previous year Tezuka's arm had prevented him from participating, but he was already entered this time and he had no intention of withdrawing. "It's ok, Oishi."

"Yeah, Oishi," Kikumaru chimed in, grabbing hold of his practice partner from behind. His weight landing against Oishi's back made Oishi stumble a little, and the epée in Kikumaru's hand swung wildly enough to force everyone to take a step back. "I bet the captain _wants_ to fight Fuji."

"Be careful, Kikumaru," Tezuka reprimanded, instinctively.

"Let me," Echizen interrupted before Tezuka could go further. "I'll beat him."

"It's possible," Inui conceded. "I was never able to take Fuji's data, but Echizen's rate of progress indicates a significant chance of success."

"No," Tezuka stated before anyone else spoke up. "I'm not withdrawing."

Echizen looked for a moment as though he wanted to object, but when Tezuka met his gaze he subsided, turning to the window. It was Oishi who tried anyway, "Tezuka—"

"No, Oishi," Tezuka told him. "You and Kikumaru should continue."

Oishi looked almost hurt for a split second. Kikumaru obediently released him and returned to the piste they'd been practicing upon, unwilling to risk raising Tezuka's ire further, and after a moment Oishi turned away, too.

Tezuka tried to ignore the guilt that ate at him; he knew that Oishi meant well enough but there was nothing harder than watching the others in the club constantly participating in tournaments against such varied opponents when he couldn't. Now that he could, even if it could potentially be hazardous, he wasn't backing down. Every once in a while, everyone had to be a little bit selfish.

"I won't lose just so you get to face him," Echizen said, still looking out the window.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Tezuka replied, his own attention on the room before him.

Echizen huffed softly and Tezuka knew he was smiling and wouldn't look back until he stopped. He felt an answering smile tug at his own lips and did his best to keep it under control as he turned to Inui. He'd rather not have his anticipation become subject for study if he could avoid it.

"Inui, join me," Tezuka invited, taking an epée and moving out onto a second piste with no doubt that Inui would follow. Behind him, Tezuka heard Echizen leaving, but he made no move to stop him. Echizen had to deal with things his own way; Tezuka's foremost concern was the upcoming epée challenge.

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Syuusuke?" Yumiko asked as she pulled up outside the campus gates.

"I'm sure," Fuji replied, smiling at her. He leaned over to kiss her cheek before leaving the car, retrieving his bags from the backseat. He'd be staying in the school's guest accommodation for duration of the tournament, so the bag he hefted up to his shoulder was heavy. Stepping back to wave Yumiko off, he smiled a little wider when he saw her expression. He knew she was nervous for him, but he'd wanted to match up against Tezuka Kunimitsu last year and he wouldn't let any ungrounded doubts dissuade him this year now that he could.

He would, however, proceed with caution. Yumiko did not tend to be wrong about her instincts.

"Fuji Syuusuke?"

Fuji turned at the sound of his name, gaze settling on a boy he didn't recognise with dark, curly hair and green eyes. "Yes?"

"I'm Kirihara Akaya, and I'm going to beat you!" said the boy, eyes flashing.

Fuji merely smiled. He looked past Kirihara to the group he'd evidently come from: Rikkai Dai. Fuji hadn't faced any of them last year. He'd been too angry to continue after Atobe had told him Tezuka wouldn't be participating, and he'd not drawn against any of them prior to that. This year he would keep his cool; this year there'd be no reason to lose it.

"Hey," Kirihara objected to Fuji's inattention. "Look at me! Didn't you hear what I said? I'm going to beat you!"

"If you say so," Fuji told him pleasantly, inclining his head to Yukimura, who he knew was a formidable challenge, without so much as looking to Kirihara. He was gratified to receive a nod in response, and spared a glance for Sanada and Yanagi. He'd seen all three last year and he would relish a battle with them this year. Kirihara, he'd never heard of, so while he would not dismiss him out of hand – he was evidently worthy if Yukimura had brought him along – he would not respect him as a proven contender.

"Bastard," Kirihara spat. He stepped forward to invade Fuji's personal space and accuse him, "You're not taking me seriously."

"Kirihara!" Sanada's sharp reprimand rang out across the space between them, though he did not stand from the bench which he occupied with Yukimura.

Fuji could tell from the way Kirihara tensed that he'd push no further, not in the sight of the senior members of his team. So, finally, he looked at Kirihara properly, enjoying the flicker of uncertainty that appeared in Kirihara's eyes when their gazes met, and also admiring that Kirihara didn't take a step back the way so many did. Unspoken was the demand Kirihara _make_ Fuji take him seriously.

Enunciating clearly, Fuji said, "Excuse me, I have to find reception."

Kirihara trembled, hands curled into fists, but he said nothing before he turned away and stalked back to the table at which his team members sat.

Fuji watched him go, then turned and strolled away towards the reception area to find out where he'd be rooming. It was going to be an interesting few days.

* * *

"What happened between you and Fuji?" Inui asked.

Tezuka couldn't claim to be surprised by the question; he'd anticipated Inui raising the topic as soon as he caught Tezuka alone. Presently, sitting with his lunch in a quiet corner of the canteen, that was precisely what Tezuka was.

In silence, Tezuka watched as Inui set his tray down and made himself comfortable in the seat opposite. He opened each container on his tray before starting anything, placing the plastic covers in a neat pile to one side.

"You asked me that before," Tezuka observed, resuming eating as Inui began.

"You didn't answer," Inui pointed out in return, watching Tezuka carefully.

"And you think I will this time," Tezuka said, a statement of fact and not a question.

"Things have changed," Inui said, adjusting his glasses in what Tezuka felt had to be a purposeful effort to make them glint ominously before he continued. "He's returned."

"I had noticed," Tezuka replied dryly, faint amusement touching his expression at Inui's dramatics.

"It will affect the entire team," Inui informed him, determined to press the gravity of the matter home. "Kaidoh—"

"—will continue fighting with Momoshiro as he always has," Tezuka broke in, amusement faded. He was mildly insulted at the implication that he wasn't taking it seriously, and, worse still, he suspected his defensiveness was because he knew himself that he was overeager to face Fuji again. "I'm not going to get careless, Inui."

Inui frowned. "Tell me," he insisted.

Tezuka abruptly didn't want to; he felt rebellious and possessive of his history with Fuji. It was ridiculous to feel that way, but he did. "It has no bearing on the rest of the team."

"If you're unable to trust me," Inui emphasised the word 'trust' clearly, "then it already does."

Tezuka sighed, setting down his chopsticks and braiding his fingers as he rested his hands on the table edge. "We knew each other before I moved here."

"I had surmised that much," Inui said, flipping open a pad he'd retrieved from his bag in order to make notes.

Tezuka shot him a look. "Do you want to know?"

"I do," Inui said, clicking the top of his pen. Lunch was apparently about to fall by the wayside. "Go on."

"We lived on the same street," Tezuka told him. "Not next door, but we knew each other from a young age. I do not remember a great deal, but my grandfather assured me that Fuji and I got along famously." Tezuka did not confess that his grandfather had also described Fuji's uncanny ability to lead Tezuka astray; he felt it gave away too much. "I do remember that we were increasingly competitive in elementary school. It wasn't only in fencing – I didn't begin that right away – but in all our subjects."

"Who started fencing first?" Inui asked, making Tezuka blink.

"Usually I started things first and Fuji would follow," Tezuka said slowly. "But that time… I think it was Fuji. He won his first tournament the year I started. I was too inexperienced to participate, but Fuji'd been doing it just that bit longer so he could take part."

"And the subsequent ones?" Inui was scribbling away in his notebook.

"I won the second one – my first," Tezuka said. "I beat him in the final. Then we moved and the first time I saw him again was last year."

"I see," Inui said, sounding ever so serious.

Tezuka rolled his eyes, but only because Inui was looking at the pad instead of him. "He simply wants a rematch."

"So it would seem," Inui agreed, as if there actually could be an alternative explanation.

Tezuka knew he was being baited and didn't rise to it. "Is that all you need?"

"For now," Inui replied, closing the pad and levelling Tezuka with a look that said he didn't believe he'd been told everything.

Tezuka didn't flinch under the look, but he did change the topic smoothly, "Do you have some particular concern about Kaidoh?"

It was Inui's turn to blink, caught uncharacteristically off-guard. "No," he said, with an air of bemusement. "Should I?"

"You mentioned him first when you started talking about the detrimental effects on the team," Tezuka explained. He didn't actually think there was any reason for concern – he kept a close eye on his team – but it was usually worth asking Inui these things and it took attention away from himself.

"I've been spending extra time training him," Inui said, shrugging lightly. It meant nothing. "He insists on continuing to do extra to regular practices so I've been continuing to make sure he doesn't overexert himself."

Tezuka frowned a little, but then nodded without comment because he did trust Inui, particularly with regard to Kaidoh.

"About Echizen," Inui began, warming to the topic. "Do you think—?"

"He'll be fine," Tezuka said. "He focuses more when he's angry."

"I was thinking of outside the tournament," Inui explained. "Last year his mood was very volatile after Atobe's defeat and Kirihara-kun of Rikkai Dai is here to spark off against this year, even if he doesn't encounter Fuji."

"Yanagi has spoken to you about Kirihara-kun?" Tezuka asked.

"No," Inui replied, "but I've seen him duel. He's makes it worth their while to manage his temper."

"I'll speak to Echizen," Tezuka conceded. While he had no doubt that Yukimura and Sanada could keep Kirihara in line, Echizen was his responsibility and he well remembered how hard Echizen found it to walk away from a challenge.

Inui nodded, finally returning to his food now he had a satisfactory resolution to the situation.

Tezuka stayed with him in companionable silence as Inui ate, content to find Echizen when they were done, but his thoughts were elsewhere; his thoughts were on Fuji.

* * *

Fuji had picked up his lunch at the beginning of the lunch hour and left the cafeteria immediately. He'd had no interest in making himself available to the frothing freshmen who'd heard tales of his exploits – no, he much preferred unnerving his potentially challenging opponents. As such he was slowly strolling through the school grounds, picking fries from his tray as he went, looking for someone he recognised. He didn't expect to spot the members of Hyotei, and certainly not Echizen Ryoma with them, but he wasn't going to turn his nose up at fate.

Finding a space on the wall opposite the benches they occupied, Fuji settled himself to watch.

It wasn't only Echizen, sat across from Atobe himself, who was keeping the rival school company. Kikumaru Eiji seemed to be endeavouring (and failing) to outdo Mukahi Gakuto's gymnastics nearby. Fuji had enjoyed watching their match the previous year, he'd been hard pushed to determine which out of the physical and verbal duelling had been more entertaining.

It was Oshitari Yuushi who spotted him, raising an eyebrow as he met Fuji's eyes across the quad. His gaze was cool and assessing, but Fuji was pleased to see there was no hostility. Oshitari, at least, held no grudge.

Fuji waited for Oshitari to say something to alert Atobe and Echizen to his presence but, when he did finally interrupt the conversation the two were holding, he seemed merely to excuse himself from their company. Before Oshitari departed his hand lingered momentarily on Atobe's shoulder and drew the captain's attention and a nod of acknowledgement from both he and Echizen; there was nothing more remarkable than that. The rest of the team – those that were there – seemed not the least interested in where Oshitari was going as he moved away, pausing briefly at the outdoor vending machines and then proceeding over to Fuji at a leisurely pace.

"Fuji," he greeted when he was near enough, popping the top on the can he'd purchased and taking a sip.

"Oshitari," Fuji returned. He gestured to his paper plate of fries as he asked, "Would you like some?"

Oshitari looked amused but helped himself, dragging a couple through both the mayonnaise and the ketchup that Fuji had helped himself to, but avoiding the Tabasco. Fuji had been surprised just how accommodating the kitchen staff had been with his requests.

"I wasn't sure you'd be back," Oshitari said, eyeing Fuji with muted curiosity. "Tezuka seems to be attracting the attention of a lot of fencers."

"Oh? I didn't realise he was participating," Fuji said, smiling innocently as he made copious use of the Tabasco.

"I'm sure you didn't," Oshitari's tone was dry. His fingers were stained with his sauce and he chose to lick them clean over accepting the napkin Fuji offered him. The suggestive nature of his actions, and the number of people who were turning to look as they passed, made his next words more than a little ironic. "You certainly wouldn't want to cause a stir."

"Not in the least," Fuji agreed. "You'll be participating, won't you?"

Fuji had beaten Oshitari prior to facing Atobe the previous year. It had been an immensely satisfying duel, not quite on par with Atobe but demanding nonetheless. Fuji found that he was quite looking forward to a rematch, his interest in seeing Tezuka aside.

"I will," Oshitari said. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward his club mates before adding, "So will Atobe."

Fuji wondered briefly if he was being given a warning, but Oshitari didn't seem the type to make threats. The silence that followed Oshitari's statement seemed to ring with all that Oshitari was too loyal to say and Fuji too inadequately acquainted to guess. It left Fuji entertaining the passing idea that Atobe could be the trouble Yumiko had envisioned ahead for him. "I might not face him at all this time."

"There does seem to be a great deal of competition over who will get to defeat you," Oshitari conceded. He took another sip from his can, eyes crinkling with amusement at the situation. "Especially since you seem to have adeptly avoided them in the pool rounds."

"You don't seem terribly eager yourself." Fuji mock-pouted before his smile broke out again. He chose to ignore the comment about the pool rounds; a series of ranking tournaments that had, in that region, become customarily held within each school just prior to the competition proper. It left the tournament as they attended it now consisting of just the direct elimination rounds. Fuji had managed to join in with Ginka, who no one really ever paid much attention to anyway, and sneak into the competition that way.

"Of course I am," Oshitari returned, smile wicked.

Oshitari took another sip from his can, but before either of them could say anything further, Fuji spotted his prey. Tezuka emerged from the school in the company of Inui, parting ways swiftly as Tezuka turned to approach Atobe and Echizen's table.

"Are your schools merging or something?" Fuji enquired mildly.

Oshitari didn't blink, but he did cast a curious glance back over his shoulder to see what Fuji had spotted. A smile found his lips when he looked back to Fuji. "You could say that."

Fuji raised an eyebrow, gaze returning to Tezuka as he asked, "Care to elaborate?"

"No," Oshitari said shortly, though there was still no hostility in his tone.

Fuji watched Tezuka carefully, taking in the reserved distance with which he conducted himself toward Atobe and the greater familiarity he had with Echizen. "Did something happen between Atobe and Tezuka?"

"Jealous?" Oshitari asked, smirking.

"Yes." Fuji smiled at Oshitari's surprised look. "So did something happen?"

Oshitari frowned, evidently not sure what to make of Fuji's implied confession. "Not in the sense you mean."

"Oshitari!" Atobe called, making them both turn.

Tezuka's expression had gone carefully blank upon seeing Fuji watching. Atobe's face was an impenetrable polite mask. It was just Echizen who showed open hostility, and it was clear that it was only Tezuka and Atobe putting their hands on his shoulders that was managing to keep his temper in check.

Oshitari gave Fuji a hard look, then turned away and strolled back towards Atobe. Somehow, Fuji had expected an admission of homosexuality to go down better with someone whose best friend was so flamboyantly camp.

Tezuka turned away, bending to whisper something in Echizen's ear. Atobe stepped back from them then, his attention remaining on Fuji until Oshitari came close. Fuji could only imagine what Oshitari was about to tell him; it would be round the school before the end of lunch.

"Aniki!"

It was the only call that could possibly have distracted Fuji while Tezuka was around; he turned to greet Yuuta with a smile at once. 

"Fuji," Mizuki acknowledged him, twirling his hair around his finger as he approached with Yuuta. He had his eyes closed as he mused, "We meet again at last." It simply made it easier for Fuji to ignore Mizuki in favour of his brother.

"Is everything ok?" Yuuta asked. He didn't look over to Tezuka and Atobe, but it was clear what he meant. He seemed as adorably awkward but unwilling to ignore Fuji's situation as ever.

"I'm sure everything is fine," Mizuki interrupted. "There's nothing my destined rival cannot handle."

"Of course," Fuji assured Yuuta, as though Mizuki hadn't spoken. "I just outed myself to Oshitari."

What colour there had been in Yuuta's face drained away abruptly, "You what?"

Mizuki, by contrast, looked not shocked but amused despite finding himself unexpectedly derailed from a monologue about himself and Fuji and their coming duel. Fuji was increasingly sure that Mizuki indulged in them on purpose as a mask to hide behind. The fact Mizuki had stopped – wicked and knowing smile or no – was testament enough that Fuji had managed to surprise him quite a bit. Fuji therefore didn't allow himself to be shaken, keeping up his own smiling mask in the face of Mizuki's conniving one. It wasn't hard, Fuji was always smiling.

"I just outed myself to Oshitari," Fuji repeated. "It was surprisingly easy."

Yuuta was mouthing like a landed fish. Fuji knew it wasn't over the revelation that Fuji liked boys; Mizuki might not have known that, but Yuuta had and after the initial unease between them it hadn't created a problem. Therefore it was obviously over the idea the family was about to become notorious for it.

"It'll be fine, Yuuta," Fuji reassured him, watching him carefully.

"You're going to get the shit beaten out of you!" Yuuta's voice was sharp with alarm. "You know what nee-san said and you went and did this anyway!"

Fuji's smile slipped in the face of his brother's concern. He met Yuuta's gaze, fully serious, and assured him, "I can take care of myself."

"Yuuta-kun," Mizuki broke the staring match between the siblings. "Our lunch hour will be over soon."

"You don't want to play me now?" Fuji asked, his attention finally shifting somewhat maliciously to Yuuta's captain.

Mizuki merely raised an eyebrow as though he were wholly amused with what Fuji was implying, making Fuji realise he'd miss-stepped in his assessment of Mizuki's attitude. Mizuki met Fuji's gaze squarely with a hint of a smirk, as if he knew what Fuji had realised. "Come, Yuuta-kun."

Yuuta looked furious, but allowed Mizuki to tow him away by his arm as he kept his eyes on Fuji. Fuji watched them silently and kept smiling until they rounded the corner and moved out of sight. Then, and only then, Fuji turned away and took in the people littering the quad who were observing him. He smiled at them, too, and set off in the direction he best estimated Tezuka and Echizen had gone while he spoke to his brother.

* * *

Even after Tezuka closed the door of the empty classroom securely behind himself and Echizen, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end – could feel the intensity of Fuji's gaze that had caused it. He'd thought it wouldn't make any difference to see Fuji again; he'd been wrong. Dry mouth and a rapid pulse were not acceptable reactions to seeing one's rival, no matter how much he was anticipating getting to face him in the competition.

"Captain?" Echizen asked. "You wanted to speak to me?"

Tezuka glanced back at him, only then realising that he'd wandered across the classroom without actually saying a word. "Yes," he confirmed. "Yes, I did."

Echizen had his blank, noncommittal expression in place, as though he was expecting to be reprimanded despite being unable to think of why that could be. He moved quietly to take a seat on one of the empty desks, watching Tezuka with his usual intense golden gaze.

Tezuka met Echizen's look, wondering why the prospect of duelling him had never made him feel the way he did about Fuji. Echizen had defeated him before – he was the greater challenge – and yet the thrill came from Fuji.

"It concerns Fuji," Tezuka said, and immediately felt it redundant.

"I figured," Echizen said, fleeting amusement in his expression.

"It also concerns Kirihara-kun of Rikkai Dai," Tezuka continued, a slight quirk of his lips acknowledging the humour in the situation. "I need to ask you to walk away from any challenges outside the tournament." There Tezuka paused, searching for the right words before he continued, "Fuji being here has put a lot of people on edge and it would be ill-advised to exacerbate the tension."

"Is that what Inui told you to say?" Echizen asked.

"It's what _I_ am saying to you," Tezuka told him, determined that Echizen would have no illusion that there was a question of him pushing the boundaries Tezuka was trying to set down.

"Fine," Echizen replied.

Tezuka raised an eyebrow, unable to believe the rapid capitulation despite demanding it. "Fine?"

"Yep," Echizen said. "Fine. I'll walk away."

"Just like that?" Tezuka asked, moving closer and taking a seat on the desk facing Echizen.

Echizen nodded, a faint grin slipping onto his lips. "You have enough on your mind, Captain. I can beat Fuji officially. Kirihara, too."

Tezuka eyed Echizen's smile. "You've been talking to someone," he observed. It wasn't an accusation, but Tezuka knew Echizen well enough to know that usually his words would never temper Echizen's fire so easily.

"Maybe," Echizen conceded. "Does it matter?"

Tezuka was silent for a long moment before admitting, "No, I suppose it doesn't."

"Kirihara really that dangerous?" Echizen asked, evidently deeming his assurance satisfactory and ready to move on. Tezuka let him.

"Inui thinks so," he explained. "He's seen Kirihara-kun's swordplay."

Echizen nodded, swinging his legs and glancing down thoughtfully before raising his gaze to meet Tezuka's eyes and asking, "And Fuji?"

"I don't know," Tezuka confessed, looking away with a frown. He wished he knew, but he didn't. He hadn't seen Fuji in a long time and whilst he didn't remember Fuji ever being vicious when they sparred, he didn't know about off the piste and he didn't fool himself that Echizen had meant there exclusively.

Echizen said nothing immediately, and Tezuka only realised he'd moved when he felt Echizen's hand on his shoulder. He didn’t turn, but he was instantly alert to what Echizen wanted.

"Be careful, Captain," Echizen told him, simple as that.

Tezuka nodded, touching Echizen's hand briefly with his own and wondering quite how the conversation had turned around on him like it had. He didn't offer any verbal commitment, just let Echizen's hand slide free of his own and listened to Echizen's retreating footsteps as he marvelled at how much Echizen had grown since they'd first met in Tezuka's final year of middle school.

Tezuka didn't move in the wake of Echizen's departure, staring into space. His entire club seemed to be concerned about him, and increasingly he was realising that they might have grounds. Fuji was back, Fuji wanted to face him, and, recklessly, Tezuka wanted to meet the challenge with everything he had, heedless of everyone else, because that was the way that it had always been between the pair of them as children. They would compete, one would win, and then they'd share a smile because despite their ever growing rivalry, they had still been friends back then and it had always been a shared gain. Now the safety net of friendship was gone and whatever existed between he and Fuji – whatever had been in Fuji's gaze that set him on edge – was something unfamiliar entirely, something much more dangerous than that competitive rivalry of their youth.

"Long time no see, Tezuka."

Fuji's voice cut through his silent reflection sharply and Tezuka couldn't prevent himself from tensing up. The dry mouth and feeling as though the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end was back with a vengeance. Slowly he made himself look round and acknowledge Fuji as the other boy leant casually in the doorway watching him with that crystal blue gaze.

"Fuji," Tezuka said when he finally got his mouth to co-operate. Anything else died on his tongue as Fuji straightened up and stepped inside, tugging on the handle so that the door swung shut behind him. It wasn't locked, clearly it couldn't be, but the simple fact of it being closed made Tezuka feel claustrophobic. Having Fuji focused on him in a duel in public was one thing, one special thrill, but Fuji's attention while they were alone was another, and the accompanying anticipation was entirely disconcerting.

"What? No warm welcome, Tezuka?" Fuji quipped. "It's been years."

"Last year—" Tezuka began, intending to refute the claim and get himself onto the comparably safer ground of a disagreement. Comparable to what, he wasn't sure, but he was certain it would be safer.

"Last year you didn't show," Fuji cut in, eyes flashing. He was winding his way between the desks as he approached Tezuka.

"It wasn't what I wanted," Tezuka told him. Fuji knew that, Tezuka was sure, but he felt compelled to say it anyway. It had been far from what he'd wanted – he had wanted to participate with a passion – but ensuring he retained the potential to someday be professional had meant much more.

"What _do_ you want, Tezuka?" Fuji asked. He kept saying Tezuka's name, letting it roll off his tongue in a way that Tezuka didn't know how to qualify. It definitely made him uneasy.

"To compete," Tezuka answered. He stubbornly refused to be cowed, not moving or looking away as Fuji came to stand in the spot that Echizen had occupied previously. Instead of fleeing as a sensible person ought, Tezuka stood up and added, "To win."

Now Fuji had to lift his chin just a little to look Tezuka in the eye, yet the height discrepancy did nothing to make Tezuka feel more secure. Fuji was invading his personal space entirely and Tezuka wanted nothing more than to take a step back.

Fuji smiled, glancing away. "To win," he repeated, and just like that the threat he'd appeared to pose vanished. Abruptly he was just a boy who was standing too close to Tezuka and making Tezuka feel off balance. For that second – as Fuji stood with his lashes lowered, his face turned, the sun shining on his hair through the classroom window – Tezuka might have convinced himself that simply putting his hand out to touch the table behind him would have been enough to make him steady again.

Then Fuji looked back up at him. He caught Tezuka off-guard, fixing him with that cool, blue gaze that seemed to stare right into Tezuka's soul and lay bare everything he was trying to keep concealed.

"I thought," said Fuji, his eyes unreadable, "that the participation was what counted."

Tezuka blinked, unable to believe that Fuji, of all people, had said such a thing. It was true – of course it was the participating that counted – but it had always been Fuji who'd strived to win; it was the very reason that Fuji had come back, wasn't it? To beat Tezuka.

"What are you doing here?" he asked him, wondering if he'd somehow got it all wrong – if _everyone_ had got it all wrong.

Fuji might have taken a step forward then, practically pressing against Tezuka, but Tezuka couldn't be certain later. He knew that it had felt as though Fuji had done so, that Fuji's words had sounded like a whisper despite reverberating in his ears, but he simply didn't know.

"I'm here for you."

* * *

"Captain!"

Fuji immediately turned at the shout, stepping back and looking toward the door as it exploded open in almost slow motion to his perception. He was acutely aware of Seigaku's Momoshiro rounding the tables and charging toward him, yet there didn't seem to be any time in which he might have moved to avoid the oncoming boy and the grip Momoshiro got on his shirt front as he propelled him backwards.

"What the hell are you doing to the captain, you fairy?!" Momoshiro bellowed into Fuji's face, and suddenly everything became a great deal clearer.

As close as he was, Fuji could see Momoshiro's expression clearly – he could see the anger, but also panic. Fuji wasn't disgusting for being what he was, but he was alarming for being so candid about something no teenage boy usually recognised openly. All in all, Fuji rather felt (particularly as his back collided painfully with the wall) that he preferred Oshitari's reaction to Momoshiro's.

"I wasn't doing anything Tezuka objected to," Fuji told him calmly, refusing to be ruffled by being manhandled. It was reckless of him to bait Momoshiro, he knew that well enough, but he'd not been lying when he assured Yuuta he could take care of himself. He watched Momoshiro's furious expression closely, not chancing a glance at Tezuka.

"You bastard!" Momoshiro sputtered, drawing back his fist. "Why, I oughta—"

Fuji tensed marginally, raising his hands a little at his sides ready to block and then dislodge the larger boy.

"Momoshiro!" Tezuka cut in, voice cold with anger. "Let him go."

Momoshiro didn't, but his fist did pause. He looked painfully confused behind the anger, his emotions easily given away by his expressive eyes. Momoshiro's hand on Fuji's shirt tightened to the point Fuji thought it might tear, but Fuji said nothing.

"Moron," someone reproved from beyond Momoshiro, voice soft like a hiss. "Look what you've done."

"Stay out of this!" Momoshiro shouted. "Stupid viper!"

"Who you calling stupid—"

"Kaidoh!" Tezuka's voice cut the speaker off immediately. In his mind's eye, Fuji could see a boy with a bandana and perpetual scowl looking furious at incurring the wrath of his captain. "I told you to let him go Momoshiro."

"But you don't know, Captain," Momoshiro objected. He still didn't release Fuji. "What they were saying, what he is – he could've been doing anything to you!"

"He's gay, Momo-senpai, not a psychotic rapist," another voice cut in bluntly – a familiar voice that made Momoshiro flinch.

Fuji raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is the entire school in here or something?" He didn't want to chance a look behind Momoshiro because a split second of inattention might mean a black eye and great deal of difficulty with Yuuta once his brother saw it. He suspected the new speaker was Echizen even without looking though.

There was a huff of amusement beyond Momoshiro and the same voice that had already spoken said, "Not quite."

Momoshiro looked incensed and shook Fuji. "It's _gay_ , Echizen," he stressed. "He's _gay_."

"So am I," Echizen replied, brutally frank. "Are you going to beat me up for it too? It never bothered you before."

Silence followed that, broken only by a hiss of surprise – Kaidoh, Fuji assumed. He was almost certain that Echizen would not have been nearly so open if he thought it would go beyond the occupants of the room they were in, but he couldn't tell if Kaidoh's surprise was over Echizen's admission or the fact of Echizen's making it where Fuji could hear. The revelation didn't really surprise Fuji either way – he even felt it made sense.

Momoshiro looked shocked and numb, trembling with indecision as the anger threatened to well-up and eradicate the confusion. "But that's not the same, Echizen," Momoshiro said. "It's not the same at all."

"Let him go," Tezuka said again, before Echizen could make any reply to the comment.

Still, despite Tezuka's evident anger, Momoshiro didn't do as he was told until Echizen said with quiet conviction, "Yes, it is."

"Echizen—" Momoshiro began, turning away from Fuji with a tone of pleading desperation. It reminded Fuji of how close Echizen and Momoshiro were meant to be, and it almost made Fuji feel sorry for the boy who'd restrained him. Echizen was slouched against the wall by the door, hands in his pockets and a hard stare levelled at Momoshiro.

"Idiot," Kaidoh hissed, glaring at Momoshiro.

"Fuji," Tezuka interrupted. "Can you leave us, please?"

"Of course, Tezuka," Fuji said agreeably, as though he hadn't been slammed into a wall. He brushed down his shirt, ignored Momoshiro's sputtering, and set off out of the classroom. He paused only at the doorway to say to Echizen, "Thank you."

"I didn't do it for your sake," Echizen retorted, entirely ungracious.

"I know," Fuji told him and smiled as he walked away. His back ached, there might even be bruises, but it hadn't gone too badly really.

* * *

"Idiot," Kaidoh had said again moments after Fuji had left, and for once it didn't seem to be directed at Momoshiro. "Now he'll go and tell everyone."

Echizen shrugged with one shoulder as he looked away from Momoshiro. "I doubt it."

Tezuka wanted to say something but found he just didn't have the words. Five minutes ago he hadn't known about either Fuji or Echizen being gay; he certainly hadn't imagined that it would be kept from him while other people were told in either case. He supposed that with reference to Fuji that was a little absurd, but he didn't know what to make of Echizen having told not only Momoshiro, but apparently Kaidoh as well before him.

"Echizen," Momoshiro was saying. "Echizen, you know I didn't mean you."

It was only watching Echizen closely, seeing him meet Momoshiro's gaze with a frown and faintly red cheeks, that Tezuka realised that, however Echizen felt about Momoshiro's behaviour, it was Tezuka's reaction of which he was really wary.

"You thought it was going to disgust me," he said quietly, straining to keep the accusation from his voice.

Softly as Tezuka had spoken, it made Momoshiro pause in his rambling and glance between them uncertainly. Kaidoh's tension seemed to radiate through the room, reminding Tezuka of that odd relationship that existed between Kaidoh and Echizen – an often silent, mutual respect that was translating now into some degree of protectiveness toward the freshman. Echizen himself only slowly forced himself to meet Tezuka's eyes. "I didn't know what you were going to think, Captain," he said.

Tezuka wanted to be angry – he felt hurt by Echizen's lack of faith – but it wasn't in his nature to be demonstrative like Momoshiro had been. He could also understand it at least a little because he knew how Echizen looked up to him and he could well imagine how he himself might have felt had he had a secret like that from Captain Yamato. In the end he told Echizen simply, "Now you know better."

Echizen looked relieved, a smile even teasing the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I do."

Tezuka could practically feel Kaidoh and Momoshiro relaxing, and it hit him as somewhat amusing to see them in unspoken unison about anything. Unfortunately, he had to ruin it, "Your behaviour was inexcusable, Momoshiro."

"But Captain!" Momoshiro exclaimed.

"No, Momoshiro," Tezuka cut him off. "Whatever you had heard, it doesn't make what you did justified. You don't just hit people without finding out the whole story first,"

"He didn't deny it!"

"That doesn't make it right, Momo-senpai," Echizen said, his frown back.

Momoshiro stopped short then and looked down at his hands awkwardly. "I know I just—I didn't think," he admitted, defeated.

Tezuka folded his arms across his chest, fortifying himself against relenting in the slightest. Momoshiro was always truly pitiful when he was sorry, but it never made him think any more thoroughly the next time around so Tezuka was not going to let him off lightly. "Who told you?"

"No one," Momoshiro confessed. "Viper and I overheard Hyotei's Oshitari telling Atobe and Echizen."

"But I didn't go running off like a moron," Kaidoh put in, glaring at Momoshiro. Echizen didn't react at all, though Tezuka could only surmise that Echizen must have noticed Kaidoh and Momoshiro's presence and had followed them back.

"Who you calling a moron?!" Momoshiro demanded, instantly straightening up angrily and advancing on Kaidoh.

"You." Kaidoh raised his fists. "Moron."

"Stop it," Tezuka reproved. "Both of you."

Momoshiro evidently knew better than to push it this time, lowering his fists and grinding his teeth angrily.

"It'll be his fault people know about Echizen," Kaidoh objected, his words hitting Momoshiro harder than any punch might have. If there was one thing that Tezuka could never have faulted Momoshiro for, it was his loyalty. Tezuka could just imagine how hard this was likely to be when it involved Momoshiro's best friend.

"For what it's worth, I don't believe that Fuji is likely to gossip about this," Tezuka told them, the only effort he was going to make in assuaging Momoshiro's conscience over his actions.

"Kaidoh-senpai?" Echizen asked. "Come practice with me?"

Kaidoh hesitated a moment, eyeing Momoshiro, then nodded his head before glancing to Tezuka briefly for the approval of his captain.

"Go," Tezuka said shortly. "Lunch is over, you should be training." When Momoshiro made to move, Tezuka added, "Not you, Momoshiro."

Tezuka wasn't sure he'd ever seen Momoshiro looking less happy than he did watching Kaidoh and Echizen take their leave.

* * *

"You're still in one piece then?" Oshitari's enquiry was totally neutral, issued once Fuji was near enough to hear without trouble. The boy was seated on the wall outside the accommodation block, as though casually waiting for a friend despite the fact that the only people on campus were participating in the competition and all of them had to be practicing.

"You were hoping I wouldn't be?" Fuji asked mildly, slowing as he reached Oshitari.

Oshitari pushed his glasses up his nose, gaze sweeping from Fuji's feet to the top of his head. "I was verifying the opposite."

Fuji cocked his head to one side, immediately curious. Oshitari didn't seem the least discomforted in his presence, despite what had happened earlier, but still… "I appreciate your concern," he said.

Oshitari snorted. "It's not my concern," he said, standing up from the wall.

"Oh?" Fuji invited, falling into step beside Oshitari as the other boy began walking toward the block Fuji had been heading for before he stopped.

Oshitari didn't let himself be drawn. "I take there isn't anything I can't see?"

"I expect my back will be sore tomorrow," Fuji told him honestly. "But nothing serious; nothing that will impair my ability to compete."

Oshitari chuckled, the only acknowledgement that Fuji had hit the nail on the head that he was going to offer. "Still, you might see someone to check you over."

"Are you offering?" Fuji shot him a sly sideways glance and found he'd failed to elicit even a remotely unsettled reaction. Oshitari was really rather annoying when he'd had a chance to regain his cool.

"I'm hardly a qualified medic," Oshitari pointed out, pulling the door open and holding it for Fuji politely. "Perhaps you might try Seigaku's Inui or Rikkai Dai's Yanagi."

"I wasn't aware that they were qualified medics either," Fuji said, amusement curving his lips as he passed Oshitari by and glanced around the empty hallway. "Why did you think I'd come back here?"

"An educated guess," Oshitari told him. "Since you have no one with whom to practice."

Fuji immediately thought of Tezuka and how it had felt to see him again for the first time; he'd wanted him, to dance – _to fight_ – with him again finally, so badly he could practically taste it. He kept his drifting thoughts from showing though, not wishing to give anything away to someone as perceptive as Oshitari. "That's an assumption."

"It's the truth," Oshitari countered as he strolled along a step behind Fuji, allowing Fuji to guide them through the complex towards his room.

"And you came to rub it in?" Fuji enquired mildly.

"To make you an offer," Oshitari corrected.

"One I can't refuse?" Fuji asked, smiling at Oshitari as he paused outside his door but made no move to unlock it.

"Precisely," Oshitari replied with a smile of his own, leaning against the wall beside Fuji's door with what appeared to be total ease. "Atobe invites you to practice with him tomorrow."

Fuji was surprised; it was the last thing he'd expected and he found himself echoing, "Atobe?"

"Atobe Keigo," Oshitari clarified, laughter in his eyes. "My captain – you may have met him once?"

Fuji laughed, unable to help it. "Maybe once," he agreed.

"Is that a yes?" Oshitari pressed.

"Will I get rid of you if it isn't?" Fuji asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oshitari smiled, shifting in place. "I'm pretty comfortable so I doubt it."

Fuji looked at him thoughtfully, remembering Atobe and how he'd enjoyed the challenge until the news of Tezuka's failure to participate had been imparted. Compared to Fuji's desire to face Tezuka, Atobe was nothing, but Fuji had to acknowledge a worthy opponent and it made his competitive zeal tingle to think of a bout outside the tournament. There was no guarantee that he and Atobe would get to face each other again otherwise, after all.

"I accept," he told Oshitari. "But I'd like members of Seigaku to be able to attend."

Something flickered in Oshitari's gaze that spoke of immense amusement, though the boy sought to hide it by reaching to adjust his glasses as he replied smoothly, "I'm sure that will be fine."

Fuji stared at him for a long moment, suspicions rising, but he did not say what he was thinking. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Oshitari inclined his head, accepting the dismissal for what it was and strolling away at a leisurely pace. Shortly after he rounded the corner, Fuji could hear him whistling to himself. It was odd, Fuji felt, to find himself glad of a friend in this part of the world – Tezuka's world. Fuji had come having fortified himself for battle, yet Oshitari didn't seem inclined to fight unnecessarily, at all. Perhaps if more people were as laid back as Oshitari, (or as purely lazy since Fuji wasn't entirely decided which it was) Yuuta would worry less about what Fuji got himself into.

With that thought in mind, Fuji removed his phone from his pocket and sent his little brother a short and to the point text. 'Still alive. xxx.' Doubtless Yuuta wouldn't see the funny side, but at least if he were angry he wouldn't worry.

His room was as he left it once Fuji got inside: pristinely tidy and ripe for him to lounge around on his bed thinking about how to get Tezuka. He needed to train still, that went without saying, but winning the competition wasn't really what it was all about. What mattered was getting close enough to make Tezuka tense again, the way he had as Fuji invaded his personal space in the classroom. Even more than that, it mattered that Fuji get close enough to convince Tezuka why he was tensing that way.

Fuji had every faith in his own capabilities, and, presently, all the time he wanted in which to contemplate Tezuka giving way to him.

* * *

Tezuka was lazing on his bed when the news arrived.

He would have liked to claim that he'd been thinking about Echizen, about Echizen's revelation and all the connotations, that he'd been worrying over Momoshiro's behaviour, or even Kaidoh. Except that he hadn't been doing any of those things; Tezuka had been thinking about Fuji.

Having dealt with Momoshiro, having seen that the solid friendship he had with Echizen had withstood being shaken, Tezuka had found himself unable to keep his thoughts from Fuji. It was Fuji who had reportedly said he was gay first, and Fuji who'd failed to at any point deny the fact when physically threatened – though Tezuka did not put it past Fuji to have acted that way simply to be contrary – and it was Fuji who had said he was there for Tezuka. It was Fuji who had made Tezuka feel anxious and unsettled.

Tezuka couldn't decide whether he actually didn't understand what he was feeling, or if he simply didn't want to admit that he did. On the one hand, he hadn't seen Fuji for years and knew as good as nothing about the other boy anymore – or so Fuji managed to make it feel. On the other hand, Tezuka was intelligent enough to know that the driving desire to face Fuji, and the way his mouth went dry and his stomach curled in knots when Fuji had finally cornered him, was not necessarily simply competitive spirit and anticipation. Not when so many people seemed to be bandying the word 'gay' around in his immediate vicinity.

He couldn't possibly be attracted to another boy, could he? Especially not his rival. Especially not Fuji.

Tezuka liked girls. He always had. Sure, he didn't fantasize about them constantly, but he'd always envisioned the future his family expected of him – a wife and children – and, while he'd felt no rush to achieve that goal, he'd at least given consideration to a number of girls. He'd even been on a date – a disastrous date, but a date with a girl!

Perhaps, he told himself, he was just getting mixed up because of the stress of this being his first big competition since his arm had mended. It went a long way to explaining things, after all, when combined with the expectation attached to Fuji's appearance on the scene and the fact that, well, in all honesty, Fuji did look a bit like a pretty girl at times.

"Tezuka!" The shout came from the hallway, unmistakably Oishi as trainers skidded on the tile flooring. "Tezuka?!"

It succeeded in distracting Tezuka from his thoughts immediately, almost coming as a relief. He sat up quickly, sliding to the edge of his bed and reaching for his glasses as the first sharp wrap of knocks sounded against the door.

"It's open, Oishi," he called, wondering what could have gotten his vice-captain into such a state. He'd barely settled his glasses on his face before Oishi was standing in front of him.

"It's Fuji," Oishi gushed. "Fuji and Atobe."

Tezuka froze, dread gripping him. He had no idea what Atobe's prejudices might or might not be, but he couldn't imagine Atobe being so uncouth as to beat Fuji up for mere rumours the way Momoshiro had – and Atobe had evidently already resisted doing just that when Momoshiro overheard Oshitari informing him about Fuji's sexuality earlier in the day anyway – but Tezuka didn't trust Fuji not to have baited Atobe to it. Swallowing to get rid of the dryness in his mouth, he asked quickly, "They're not fighting?"

"Yes!" Oishi exclaimed, wringing his hands and completely oblivious to the havoc he was playing with Tezuka's nerves. "Well no, but yes!"

"No but yes?" Tezuka echoed, regarding Oishi sternly and reaching for that well of confidence and authority that got him through so many practices.

"No!" Oishi declared, and Tezuka reached for his patience, too. "I mean: Atobe has invited Fuji to a practice duel tomorrow! And he agreed!"

Tezuka had no words in response to that, too shocked to speak. Fuji had beaten Atobe before; it had taken the full time allotment and been won on majority points, but it had been an undeniable win in the end, and now Atobe was inviting a second round so close to the beginning of the tournament? Tezuka couldn't imagine what Atobe could be thinking.

"We're invited," Oishi added.

Tezuka blinked at the odd phrasing. "We are?"

"Just Seigaku," Oishi specified. "They agreed."

"When is it?" Tezuka asked, collecting his thoughts as he slowly relaxed – the initial adrenaline rush at the idea of fisticuffs was fading.

"Tezuka!" Oishi exclaimed. "You aren't thinking of going… Of condoning…"

Tezuka frowned, and gestured to a chair as he said firmly, "Oishi, sit down."

Oishi looked as though he might protest, but then did as he was bidden when he saw that Tezuka was taking a seat on his bed as well. "Echizen's going, too, and Eiji and Momo."

Tezuka couldn't help a small, amused smile at the way Oishi seemed about to list the entirety of their club. "I'm not surprised," he said, and was gratified by Oishi looking equally amused for a moment. "What's the nature of the practice, insofar as you know?"

"Nature?" Oishi repeated as he pulled his thoughts together and recovered from the frazzled worry he'd appeared with. "Shishido said it was just going to be friendly, because Fuji has no one else to practice with – but it was Fuji that asked that we attend though, Tezuka. He's trying to bait you and you mustn't—"

Tezuka raised a hand to forestall Oishi's concerns before he really got up to speed. He didn't speak right away, trying to assemble his thoughts into some sort of an order first before finally telling his friend, "I'm going to attend, Oishi. I agree that you're right – Fuji probably is baiting me – but I want to see what's really going on here. Shishido wouldn't have told you it was friendly if he believed otherwise, and Atobe isn't the type to jeopardise his chances at victory to settle a grudge."

It was true, all of it, but Tezuka felt guilt squirm in his belly over the excitement that he was leaving unsaid. The idea of seeing Atobe and Fuji duel after everything he'd heard of last time; it was too tantalising to resist and he only hoped it all measured up to what he'd missed. Tezuka didn't wish to recognise quite how he felt about the idea Fuji was fighting to impress him.

Oishi was quiet in response to what Tezuka had said, digesting it. "You're right," he admitted at length. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"—have our best interests in mind," Tezuka finished for him, smiling his brief smile. "You shouldn't apologise for caring, Oishi."

Oishi blushed with pleasure, and fidgeted. "No, well," he fiddled with his cuff, then settled down, looking at Tezuka seriously. "How are you? I heard what happened."

Tezuka shrugged noncommittally, an instinctive reaction, and slid further onto his bed until his back rested against the wall. "It makes no difference to the competition," he said, because that was at least honest.

Oishi gave him a look, half-amused and half-exasperated as he said, "I asked about _you_."

"I know," Tezuka acknowledged softly, taking in Oishi's serious concern as he turned the situation over in his head. In the end he continued, just as truthfully, "I don't know."

Unexpectedly, Oishi simply nodded sympathetically. "It was a lot to find out in one go," he observed.

Tezuka was suddenly put in mind of Echizen and felt compelled to clarify, "It makes no difference about, Echizen. He should have known that."

Oishi gave him a look and said nothing; Tezuka could tell what he wasn't saying though – a silent reminder to Tezuka that they both understood how Echizen idolised Tezuka and consequently how forgivable it all was really. The fact that Tezuka blatantly knew better really was doubtless why Oishi hadn't offered comment.

"Did you know?" Tezuka asked, suddenly curious how out of the loop he'd been.

"No," Oishi said. "As far as I know it had only got as far as Momoshiro and Eiji, and Kaidoh had overheard once."

"Kikumaru didn't tell you?" Tezuka didn't mean to sound so surprised, but he couldn't help it.

Oishi looked amused. "He's my best friend, Tezuka, but he can guard secrets when he thinks they need guarding."

"He didn't trust me either?" Tezuka tried not to sound as though he cared about the answer, but this was his team – his _friends_ – and it did bother him.

Oishi shook his head quickly, "I don't think it's you – I wasn't told either, after all."

Tezuka nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth of the statement. It was simply strange to think that he and Oishi had been cut out – he'd somehow never broken the mindset that it was he, the captain, and Oishi, his vice-captain, were the ones that held secrets from his club. It didn't work the other way around.

"Tezuka?" Oishi said quietly, as if aware he was intruding upon Tezuka's thoughts and wanting to pull him back to reality gently.

Tezuka shifted his glance to him, silently inviting him to continue.

"You—" Oishi broke off, blushing a little and wringing his hands before pressing on determinedly. He obviously felt that he was breaking news that would previously have gone unconsidered, and Tezuka could only take that as a compliment to Oishi's faith in his heterosexuality. "You realise Fuji is probably here for more than just rivalry?"

"I know," Tezuka said, smiling faintly at Oishi's shocked expression. "He told me."

* * *

Fuji joined Atobe for breakfast next morning, the invitation having been extended only fifteen minutes earlier when they passed in the bathroom. It all seemed a little surreal to Fuji; usually he could understand people easily, but this had him curious, amused and uncomprehending, and yet he didn't feel as though he were walking into a trap. It was simply surreal.

"Good morning," he'd greeted as he set his tray down at the table.

"Fuji-san! Awesome!" Jiroh had exclaimed before Atobe had even really had a chance to glance up from his meal. The blond immediately slid down the bench to be closer to Fuji. "You're really going to face the captain again? Will you beat him like last time?"

Atobe looked amused where Fuji might have expected him to look angry; he was very confident about something. "Jiroh," he said, a hint of reprimand in his tone. "Remember whose club you're in."

"Oh! Sorry, Atobe!" Jiroh replied, not looking apologetic in the least. "So will you, Fuji?"

"We'll have to wait and see," Fuji said with a smile.

"It really won't matter in the end, though," interrupted a voice Fuji recognised but couldn't place immediately, "because you'll all lose in the end. To me."

"I believe you've said that before, Kirihara-kun," Atobe responded, unperturbed as he reached for his juice. "I don't recall it coming to much."

Mukahi mock-sniffled, "I'll beat you one-day, Captain! I'll do it."

Oshitari smirked, "Come Gakuto, it doesn't have the same impact when you aren't sobbing on your knees."

"So lame," Shishido muttered, shaking his head as he snickered. Beside him Ootori looked conflicted, caught between amusement and guilt at laughing at the boy behind him because he knew the pain of wanting to surpass a senpai – Fuji had witnessed that in Ootori and Shishido's dealings last year.

Fuji didn't know what they were referencing exactly as he glanced around, taking in lastly Kabaji's impassive visage. He felt he could safely assume Hyotei must have somehow witnessed one of Rikkai Dai's practices that hadn't gone so well for Kirihara though; unsurprisingly if he'd been facing Yukimura.

"Bastards," Kirihara bit out. "Don't you dare disrespect the captain!"

"Kirihara-kun," Fuji interrupted before he went any further. "It wasn't your captain they were disrespecting." He turned so his profile was facing Kirihara, tilting his head to one side and meeting Oshitari's assessing gaze across the table as he added, "Perhaps you should walk away and show them better on the piste sometime?"

"Don't you tell me—" Kirihara started, only to be cut off again.

"Kirihara!" It was Yukimura this time, and Fuji didn't envy Kirihara's position at all. The boy practically wilted as they looked on, grinding his teeth furiously.

"Yukimura," Fuji greeted as the other boy approached, and it was echoed by the surrounding Hyotei players.

"Fuji, Atobe," Yukimura acknowledged them both. "Kirihara, apologise."

"But, Captain," Kirihara objected, whining.

"Now," Yukimura barked. Sanada had appeared at his shoulder and was surveying Kirihara impassively before looking past him and inclining his head to Atobe who returned the nod.

Kirihara looked far from happy as he muttered quietly, "S'ry."

"I didn't hear that," Yukimura said, evidently determined to drive the lesson home.

"Sorry," Kirihara bit out, louder.

"Apology accepted," Atobe told him without hesitation, evidently not about to make Yukimura regret forcing Kirihara to be civil.

Yukimura nodded to Atobe, a flicker of a smile creeping across his lips. "Rikkai Dai will win, though."

"We shall see," Atobe responded with a smile of his own. Fuji couldn't help sharing their pleased anticipation – the very best in the area, possibly even the country, were all going to be here and he would get to face them.

"This afternoon then," Yukimura told them. "Come, Kirihara."

Sanada nodded to them, saying nothing and withdrew alongside his captain, leaving them to their own discussions. Fuji sometimes felt he could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard Sanada speak, but he respected Sanada for not simply filling the quiet with meaningless words.

"Whipped," Shishido muttered, though it wasn't clear whether it was in relation to Kirihara, Sanada, or Rikkai Dai as a whole. Fuji, much as he respected the members of Rikkai Dai, couldn't help agreeing that Yukimura did have them all well trained.

"Shishido-san," Ootori objected, frowning.

"Stop fretting about it, Choutarou," Mukahi said. "He's right."

"How is this any better than Kirihara-kun's behaviour?" Atobe enquired mildly, though he was clearly more amused with his club than irritated – he certainly wasn't telling them off.

"We're doing it behind their backs?" Mukahi suggested innocently. "Much less hurtful that way."

Shishido snickered and both Oshitari and Atobe were hiding smiles. Fuji didn't bother to conceal his own amusement, "And if they find out later?"

Mukahi shrugged one shoulder, "Oops?"

"Very eloquent," Atobe commended, sarcasm unmistakable. "If you're ready, Fuji?"

"I am," Fuji replied, pushing his tray away from himself and stretching. "How many of Seigaku do you think will be there?"

"Goes without saying that the brat will be," Mukahi said, gaze resting pointedly on Atobe and a smirk on his lips.

If Mukahi had been hoping that Atobe would react – and it had seemed as though he had – he was disappointed; Atobe simply agreed with him, "Echizen should be there. I imagine most of the rest of their club as well, if only because they want to understand why the invitation was extended."

Oshitari chuckled, rising to join he and Atobe in their walk through to the gym where they would be practicing, "No doubt they're even now trying to work out what conniving and evil intentions are behind it all."

Fuji raised an eyebrow, smiling in spite of himself because he couldn't help thinking it sounded accurate. "That's not a little excessive?"

"No," Atobe responded shortly. "They have a goody-goody complex."

"Most of them do, anyway," Oshitari amended, a smile fleeting across his lips as his gaze flickered to Atobe.

This time, unlike with Mukahi's dig, Atobe smiled faintly and agreed, "Most of them."

"Is that what this is about?" Fuji asked. The idea of having Tezuka see him at his best against a challenging opponent had been why he wanted Seigaku attending. He should have anticipated that Atobe would be expecting such a request and might have had a similar goal in mind.

"No, it isn't. I wouldn't risk the competition for something so fickle," Atobe responded, but his tone belied the words – it was honest and there was no offence in it; there was also no accusation that he thought Fuji was willingly jeopardising his chances either. "I simply wanted to practice against another challenging opponent before the official bouts."

Fuji nodded, smiling at Oshitari when he got the door for them on the way in to the gym, "Thank you then."

"You're welcome," Atobe said, that same amusement from earlier still present in his voice. He pulled open the inner door to the gym, motioning Fuji through first as he regarded him seriously and asked, "But tell me, what happens if you don't face him, or if he beats you?"

Fuji paused at the sound of the question in his ear, staring forward through the doorway at the subject of their conversation where he stood across the room. Fuji knew his expression was a surprised blank for a moment, because he'd actually honestly not considered those options in his focus on beating Tezuka. Beating Tezuka, and winning Tezuka. It simply hadn't seemed feasible for it all to pan out any other way.

He didn't know the answer to Atobe's question.

* * *

Tezuka didn't know what to make of it when he met Fuji's shocked gaze that morning; he'd never seen his rival look at quite such a loss before. It was the last thing he'd been anticipating in the wake of Fuji's self-assurance the previous day.

"Tezuka?" Oishi had asked, reaching to touch his shoulder.

Tezuka had glanced toward him immediately, blinking a few times as though he thought he'd hallucinated. In a way, he thought he had – Fuji was no longer looking, absorbed in his own activities and confident again, by the time Tezuka looked back.

"Sorry, Oishi," he said.

"Do you want to leave?" Oishi offered, his concern obvious.

"Relax, Oishi-senpai," Echizen interrupted, saving Tezuka from his friend's worry. "It's just a practice bout."

"No need to ask who you'll be cheering on," said Kikumaru knowingly as he sidled up to them, slinging his arm around Echizen's shoulders. "Hey, chibi?"

Echizen elbowed Kikumaru in the side and rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything. Tezuka suspected he saw a smile teasing at Echizen's expression and he was surprised; Tezuka knew Echizen too well to have imagined it.

"How about you, Captain?" Kikumaru pressed on, unrelenting as he looked at Tezuka expectantly. Kikumaru remained draped over Echizen, however, knowing better than to think Tezuka would accept those antics as well. "Who will you be cheering on?"

Tezuka merely regarded Kikumaru impassively, determined not to say anything that would give himself away.

"Fuji then," Kikumaru concluded, nodding to himself. Echizen was doing a poor job of concealing his amusement with the conversation as he watched Hyotei prepare their captain.

"I didn't—" Tezuka began, glancing helplessly to Oishi – who looked every bit as amused with Kikumaru as Echizen.

"Damn!" Kikumaru interrupted mournfully, withdrawing from Echizen's shoulders, and Tezuka knew Kikumaru had merely been attempting to trip him up.

"You know the captain wouldn't let his guard down," Echizen reminded Kikumaru, grinning faintly as his golden gaze flickered toward Tezuka.

Tezuka didn't feel he deserved the compliment, but he smiled in return anyway. He considered trying to continue the conversation momentarily, but nothing he could think of failed to sound awkward in the wake of Kikumaru's choice of subject. He elected to stay silent, looking back towards the benches where the two duellists were preparing. It seemed a stark contrast to see Hyotei surrounding Atobe while Fuji prepared alone.

"It's exciting, really, isn't it?" Oishi confessed, looking a little embarrassed but unable to deny how he felt.

"It's a risk," said Echizen bluntly, "with the competition beginning this afternoon."

"Atobe knows what he's doing," Tezuka said, almost automatically.

"I know that," Echizen replied, his tone reflecting quite clearly that it wasn't _Atobe_ that he had doubts about.

"He's gotten that good?" Tezuka couldn't help asking the question. He knew Atobe had been practicing, had improved vastly, but he'd only ever heard Echizen speak with such confidence in regard to either himself or Tezuka before.

"Yes," Echizen said, and if Tezuka hadn't known better, he'd have said Echizen sounded proud.

"Where's Momo this morning?" Oishi asked, the question directed to Echizen as he glanced around.

"Fudomine," Echizen replied, the pleasure that had inhabited his expression dropping away. "He's practicing with Kamio."

"He'll come round, chibi," Kikumaru assured him, draping himself on Echizen again and resting his chin on Echizen's head. Tezuka was surprised when Echizen didn't immediately struggle, especially since this hold was so much more invasive than the previous one had been. Kikumaru continued, conciliatory, "He's just being a dumb guy."

Tezuka wondered if Kikumaru knew quite how much he sounded like a girl just then, but he'd never have said as much out loud.

"Tezuka?"

Even before he looked around, even had he not recognised that voice saying just his name, Tezuka would have known who addressed him from the hostility in Kikumaru's expression, from Kaidoh's, too, as he approached from behind Kikumaru, and from Inui's open curiosity as he accompanied his protégé. Echizen's stark indifference was telling enough in context, and Oishi's concerned focus on Tezuka himself sealed the deal.

"Fuji?" he asked, turning slowly to face his rival. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, Tezuka," Fuji replied, already causing Tezuka to regret his phrasing, "there is something."

It seemed that in the small time it took Fuji to say that, everyone in the room had turned to pay attention to the two of them. Fuji was basking in it, the angelic white of the protective clothing he wore entirely misleading. Tezuka regarded him neutrally, patiently waiting and not allowing himself to be baited into prodding Fuji along. He tried to ignore the fact that Fuji did look rather handsome like that.

"I ask for your favour, Tezuka," Fuji said, smiling that enigmatic smile of his. There was no room for Tezuka to misunderstand the meaning, the throw back to medieval tournaments with himself cast as the maiden, not when Fuji had him pinned with an open, crystalline stare.

"Why should—?" Oishi began to ask, worry palpable. He clearly hadn't caught the real meaning behind it and thought that Fuji was requesting some good turn from Tezuka for some reason.

"He doesn't want that, Oishi," Kikumaru cut in, having unwound himself from Echizen once more now that they had company. "He's after something of Tezuka's to wear to show Tezuka's supporting him. It's what knights used to ask ladies of the court for in medieval European jousts."

To his credit, Oishi didn't make the mistake of protesting that Tezuka wasn't a lady. It was clear from Kikumaru's voice just what the acrobat thought of Fuji's behaviour, but Fuji wasn't looking to Kikumaru, he was looking at Tezuka. And Tezuka didn't know what to do.

Atobe was no help when Tezuka glanced at him, he was watching the entire situation with a look of considerable amusement. Echizen's expression wasn't far different; it certainly wasn't the impassive mask that Tezuka had expected to see, nor open hostility.

"Tezuka?" Fuji pressed, gaze challenging him to do it and say sod them all.

Tezuka felt awkward and hated Fuji in that moment. There was too much attention on him, too much of an invasion. He knew it was part of a game objectively, that Fuji was just trying to push him out of his comfort zone, leaving him teetering on edge and vulnerable, but the emotional rollercoaster of it all was getting to feel a bit too much with so many eyes on him. The scratch of Inui's pen on his pad sounded deafening in Tezuka's ears, even though he could only see and not hear it when he glanced that way in reality. Catching Fuji's striking blue gaze once more, he determined to himself that he wasn't going to back down, wasn't going to break.

"Fine," Tezuka bit out, and made a motion to struggle with the knotted leather bracelet looped around his wrist. He felt cornered and he was trying not to let it show as his hand shook. He could practically feel the accusing and baffled gazes of his teammates on him as he worked at the knot. The gratitude he felt when Echizen took hold of his wrist and proceeded to undo the bracelet for him was immeasurable.

"There, Captain," Echizen said softly, sympathy in his eyes as he met Tezuka's gaze briefly. He pressed the bracelet into Tezuka's palm and stepped back out the way, leaving Tezuka to hold it out mutely to Fuji. Tezuka certainly had no intention of offering Fuji assistance with putting it on.

"Thank you," Fuji said simply, slightly smug but knowing better than to push any further. Fuji went to Oshitari for help tying the bracelet.

"Well, then," Atobe remarked. "I suppose that makes it my turn."

Tezuka felt momentary horror when he met Atobe's gaze, but Atobe only regarded him with even amusement as he sauntered over to them, and stepped deliberately past Tezuka. Tezuka turned to watch, unable to do anything else, and realised just who Atobe was going after. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised with their persistent banter.

"Echizen," Atobe said, standing before the younger boy with his typical regal dignity.

Echizen turned his face away, but Tezuka knew him well enough to know he was amused and trying not to laugh. Tezuka was surprised to realise Atobe knew it, too. For a moment it made him wish that his interaction with his friends could be like that – that much easier. But Tezuka wasn't Echizen and, no matter their similarities, their differences would always be extensive.

"Come on, brat," Atobe prodded Echizen, his stance remaining casual. "Don't leave me hanging."

Echizen did smile then, rolling his eyes as he doffed the cap he habitually wore. Taking a step forward as Atobe held still and watched him intently, Echizen went up on tiptoe and pulled the cap down on Atobe's head firmly. Atobe was obviously trying not to look disgruntled, provoking Echizen to ask, "Happy now?"

"Positively ecstatic," Atobe retorted, reaching up to adjust the hat. He looked utterly ridiculous, which was doubtlessly exactly what Echizen had intended by the move, and yet it all felt so easy between the two of them.

"Oi, Atobe, how you gonna fit the mask over it?" Shishido called out, tone indicative of just how entertaining he was finding the whole thing.

Atobe made a face, hands on his hips and epée held loosely – Echizen's hat still perched akimbo on his head. "I'm thinking."

"I can hear the cogs turning," Echizen murmured.

Tezuka had to fight a smile, his turmoil chased away by amusement at the scene before him for now at least. Always, always, they managed to be so silly.

"Quiet you," Atobe instructed Echizen. "This is your fault."

"Perhaps if we might get started?" Oshitari enquired mildly.

"Hmph," Atobe said, "Since you're so insistent you can wear this for me."

"What?" Oshitari failed to conceal his horror. "No."

"You don't object, do you Echizen?" Atobe asked, stalking across the room to retrieve his faceguard, the hat still perched on his hair.

"I don't object," Echizen confirmed, smirking at Oshitari.

"Since no one objects," Fuji spoke with the same mildness Oshitari had used just a moment previously. "Let's begin." He picked up his own mask and walked to the on-guard line on the piste. "Oishi Syuuchiroh to score."

"Agreed," Atobe called out, removing Echizen's cap at last and tossing it to Oshitari, who in turn only just managed not to drop it. Atobe stared at him pointedly until Oshitari put it on, then he smiled and joined Fuji on the piste.

"Me?" Oishi echoed, long moments too late.

"Please, Oishi-kun," Fuji said pleasantly.

Atobe nodded in agreement as he tested his blade. "We can't use the electronic equipment; it risks accusations of foul play later."

"Right," said Oishi, drawing himself up. "Right."

"Your assistants?" Oshitari asked. It drew everyone's attention to him, wearing Echizen's hat with a sullen look on his face, and muffled snickers could be heard all around.

"Oh!" Oishi said, glancing around nervously. "Right. Shishido and Kikumaru watch Atobe please, Oshitari and Inui watch Fuji."

All four nodded, Shishido and Kikumaru walking to stand behind Fuji whilst Oshitari and Inui stood behind Atobe, each pair watching the fencer opposite them.

Atobe and Fuji waited until everyone was in place, then they both saluted Oishi, each other and the appointed assistants before putting on their masks and taking position at their lines.

"On guard!" Oishi instructed them, looking down at his watch. "Are you ready? Play!"

For the first few moments – long moments – they moved slowly and warily back and forth as they gauged each other and searched for an opening. Then, suddenly, they exploded into motion. Tezuka wished he had Echizen's eyes, or even Kikumaru's, it was all so incredibly fast.

The sound of blade on blade filled the air as they thrust and parried in rapid succession, a step forward here and then back again, neither really gaining an inch. It was far more even a match than the last time, from all that Tezuka had heard. Atobe was really holding his own and even pushing to gain the advantage.

Then it happened, a rapid series of moves that Tezuka barely kept up with as Fuji dived to touch Atobe's foot and Atobe deftly avoided the blow and struck Fuji's shoulder with his own epée.

"Halt," Oishi called out, sounding shaky. "Point to Atobe."

The assistant referees nodded their agreement, both Kikumaru and Inui looking much more surprised than Oshitari and Shishido. It touched Tezuka to see the amount of faith Atobe's team clearly had in him, it was a high he knew well from his own club. Tezuka also felt mildly stunned though, like his own club mates, but reminded himself it was just the first point.

"See," Echizen said, so quietly that Tezuka almost thought he'd imagined it.

Atobe threw Oshitari a mock salute before resuming position, and Oshitari mirrored the humour as he raised Echizen's hat to him. Echizen smiled.

"I see," said Tezuka, looking to where Fuji stood. He looked serene still, entirely unruffled by his loss. Tezuka wished he really could see – behind Fuji's many masks – to what was really going on in the other boy's head.

As though he were aware of Tezuka's thoughts, Fuji's head turned towards him and he executed a little bow. Tezuka felt his cheeks heat uncomfortably and he shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly before nodding curtly in return.

"I think you're getting ahead of yourself," Tezuka told Echizen simply, his voice lowered so as not to carry to everyone around them.

"You hope I am," Echizen amended mildly. Echizen was silent for a moment after that and Tezuka glanced to him curiously, anticipating that Echizen had not finished. He was right and found himself met with all too knowing golden eyes as Echizen said, "I think you're biased."

Tezuka didn't say anything, refusing to either confirm or deny the charge. Echizen already knew anyway.

"On guard," called Oishi, drawing their attention back to the combatants. "Are you ready? Play!"

Tezuka had to admire Fuji's form – he was all fluid grace, almost angelic and positively lethal. His blade and Atobe's flashed in the light, clashing together in a sudden fury before they both fell back and searched for that sought after opening once more.

It made Tezuka want to participate with a keen sort of desperation. It wasn't that it would necessarily be a greater challenge than his club members – Echizen and Inui were formidable practice partners and the rest were no less talented – but this was different; it was a foreign challenge to stretch him.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Tezuka nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of their coach's voice shattering the fantastic tension that had been building. It didn't really sink in what was going on as he watched Fuji and Atobe breaking away from each other, just stopping like that, and Oishi grabbing his sleeve to drag him away before he got into trouble.

It was like a dream; as though it had never been.

* * *

By the time Fuji got away, having withstood a lecture on the recklessness of duelling outside of the tournament at such a time, he had no idea where Tezuka had gone. He had something of an impression that Oishi had probably whisked Tezuka away someplace in anticipation of the afternoon, but where that place might be – that Fuji did not know.

Thus Fuji was reduced to sitting silently on the wall outside one of the accommodation blocks meditating on the matches he knew would be taking place over the course of the day. The lists had gone up at midday and the matches would begin at two. Fuji supposed he should be finding himself lunch – it was half past one already – but he felt curiously disinclined. Tezuka had drawn against Mukahi, and Fuji suspected he could anticipate the result of that; he faced Yanagi himself, and felt accordingly wary; but it was Yuuta that concerned him most, for it was Yuuta who would be first to face Kirihara of Rikkai Dai, and Fuji wasn't too modest to acknowledge his relation to Yuuta was doubtless going to make it harder on his brother.

"Aniki!"

"Yuuta," Fuji greeted softly, smiling – speak of the devil and he will appear. He was pleased to see that Yuuta was devoid of Mizuki this time because, though Fuji knew he could ignore Mizuki well enough, he really didn't like him at all.

"I heard about this morning," Yuuta told him, slowing as he approached where Fuji sat.

"You'll be facing Kirihara today?" Fuji enquired, knowing that his attempt to dodge Yuuta's line of conversation was doomed to failure.

"Yes, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about," Yuuta reproved him. "I brought you some lunch."

"Thank you," Fuji said, taking the proffered box in hand; he didn't open it just yet though. He stared at the top of the box, thinking of the morning and feeling Tezuka's bracelet about his wrist acutely. He hadn't had a chance to return it yet. "What about this morning?"

"You're openly wooing Tezuka Kunimitsu?" Yuuta asked bluntly, though his cheeks had spots of red that betrayed what the question cost him. He was far more calm and collected than Fuji ever remembered him being before.

"What if I am?" Fuji enquired mildly, prying up the corner of the box he held. He was immediately hit with the smell of salami and peppers; Yuuta knew him too well.

"You're still aniki," Yuuta told him simply, the blush darkening and creeping down his neck as he studiously avoided looking in Fuji's direction while he liberated his own lunch.

"I am then," Fuji beamed, reaching to wrap his arm around Yuuta's shoulders. "Thank you."

"Get off." Yuuta immediately tried to shrug him away, his ears nearly luminous, "Whatever got into you anyway, with favours or whatever it was?"

Fuji withdrew, picking up his sandwich to take a bite. "I just thought it'd be fun, and Atobe would probably go with it."

"And he did, right?" Yuuta queried, curious.

Fuji declined to answer the curiosity there – that was Atobe's business, not his – he simply said, "He did."

"Are you worried about Yanagi-san?" Yuuta asked once he'd polished off his first sandwich.

"A little," Fuji admitted. He rather thought he'd get through, but he didn't want to underestimate someone like Yanagi – the boy's reputation was hardly founded on hot air. "Are you?"

"No," Yuuta declared, which Fuji knew meant he was. "I'll beat him."

Fuji merely smiled, "Of course." He glanced down at his watch.

"Tezuka will be starting soon, won't he?" Yuuta asked, making it clear he'd seen Fuji's move. "Let's go."

Fuji reached out to touch his arm when Yuuta went to rise, making him pause in place. "Thank you, Yuuta," he told him with utter sincerity.

Yuuta scowled and nodded, taking another step so that Fuji's hand fell away and jerking his head toward the gym halls. "We'll be late."

* * *

Tezuka was relieved when he saw Fuji slip into the gym hall just before they were due to start. He wasn't about to question why he cared – he was already irritated enough with himself for caring at all – but he had been wondering if the other boy had left and, if so, when he'd ever get his bracelet back. Right now he had a fight to concentrate on though.

"Focus, Captain," Echizen reproved him.

It was only then that Tezuka realised he had let his gaze stray to Fuji for too long, too obviously. "I am," he lied, and ignored the quirk at the corner of Echizen's mouth which indicated the younger boy was laughing at him inside.

"If you say so," Echizen retorted, holding out the epée for Tezuka to take from him. "Mukahi's an easy mark for you, don't fuck up."

To their side Oishi gasped, " _Echizen—_ "

Tezuka held up his hand to forestall Oishi, staring at Echizen evenly. Echizen didn't bat an eyelash, ever the irrepressible brat, and after a few moments longer Tezuka couldn't withhold his smile any longer. He turned to pick up his faceguard in order to hide it and took the blade from Echizen. "If you lose today, you'll be running laps for a month."

"Yes, Captain," Echizen agreed with a grin, stepping back out of the way.

Tezuka got his smile under control and glanced briefly toward Fuji again, catching that unforgettable blue gaze and having to remind himself that Fuji could not actually see into his mind. He turned to take in his opponent, but he couldn't shrug off the feeling of those eyes on him just yet; they made him want to do better than his best.

Mukahi was obviously nervous, it was clear from the way his gaze kept flitting to Tezuka before his expression set determinedly, only to lapse again a little while later. Tezuka was under no illusions about the fight ahead of him though. Whatever Echizen might say, Mukahi was fast and energetic, and if Tezuka was careless for even a moment, Mukahi would walk through to the next round. Tezuka didn't want to lose, he never had before and he especially didn't want to now.

Mukahi picked up his own faceguard and time seemed to slow down as they were both waved onto the piste ready. Tezuka held himself perfectly immobile, a stark contrast to Mukahi as he jigged from one foot to the other as they attached the wires to their epées. It was the part Tezuka hated most about competitions, that wire, because however much it wasn't meant to restrict movement, it was still _there_. He loved the freedom of the fight, and it got in the way of that.

He could still feel those eyes on him. His hands were sweaty inside his gloves already and he flexed them in irritation. Just beyond Mukahi, Atobe was nodding to him, wishing him a good game. He returned it, acknowledging it, and settled his attention firmly back on Mukahi.

Speed and flexibility, that was what Mukahi was about. Tezuka just had to focus. _Focus_. He saluted the referee and then Mukahi when the time came. _Focus_. He put on his mask and took ready stance as he was instructed. _Focus_.

Distantly Tezuka might have heard the referee call, yet it didn't really register as a sound – it was simply the knowledge that it was time to start and he and Mukahi were suddenly closing in on each other rapidly. The blades were thin slithers of silver that quivered in their grip, a feint here and then there, a clash of the two and that echoing metallic sound in an otherwise silent room.

Here, Tezuka was in his element. Every move Mukahi made, no matter how fast he was, no matter his gymnastics, Tezuka could see it coming in the play of the muscles beneath his protective suit. He blocked and deflected blow after rapid blow, and there the problem existed. It was easy enough to block Mukahi, but his swift and relentless assault made a return blow to score the point more challenging.

And then it was done, with no fanfare, no flare. A block and a deftly executed riposte and Tezuka's blade had grazed Mukahi's suit to make the buzzer sound.

"Halt!"

The first point was his and he stepped backward unsteadily, momentarily off balance now that his concentration was broken.

"First point to Tezuka Kunimitsu," announced the referee. It was a good start.

Now would come the next four.

* * *

Four points later – and just in the nick of time – Tezuka was panting and victorious as he found his shaky way into the changing rooms. He was sweaty, baking in fact, as he pried his faceguard away and pushed his damp bangs from his forehead, but he'd won and that was what counted. Mukahi had shown him once again that it didn't matter what type of fencer an individual was or how people thought of them, it could be all too easy to underestimate the effort that would be needed to compete against them. Mukahi was faster than some of the participants who'd be considered a lot better than him – it counted for a lot.

Stumbling over to the sink, he twisted the cold tap on and let the mask and his gloves drop on a nearby bench. His hands were trembling, but that was the adrenaline that remained in his system from a good fight not exhaustion. He sank his hands beneath the flow, wincing momentarily at the freezing bite. He was trying to clear his head – it was why he was alone, having shrugged off his school mates – but he was still buzzing.

Tezuka heard the footsteps behind him but he didn't turn, lowering his head to let the water run past his lips as he gulped a few sips. He suspected it was Oishi or Echizen, since no one else was likely to defy his wishes to be alone – he should have known better.

The footsteps paused behind him and it was only as silence prevailed that Tezuka suddenly began to feel nervous that it wasn't any of his friends standing behind him. The high of his victory was beginning to dull as he felt increasingly unsettled, straightening up, "Who—"

"Me."

Tezuka couldn't mistake the voice, not after he'd listened to it in his head so often in the last day. He twisted the tap off and turned around, looking for a towel as he greeted, "Fuji."

Later Tezuka would point to the fact that he hadn't been looking at Fuji as his excuse – he'd been searching for a towel to wipe his mouth, uncomfortable to be so discomposed in Fuji's company – but secretly he wasn't sure that he'd have stopped it from happening had he known what was coming.

"I've missed watching you fight," Fuji said, and his voice raised the hairs on the back of Tezuka's neck. It was the same tone that Fuji had used toward the end of their exchange the previous day, and yet now Fuji was starting out with it. It made Tezuka hesitant to look at Fuji, to meet his eyes, and that was how he ended up trapped.

Fuji took Tezuka's face gently but firmly between his hands and Tezuka barely had time to look at Fuji in shock before Fuji's lips were pressed against his own. It wasn't remotely how he might have imagined his first kiss going. The sink was pressing awkwardly at the small of his back; he was both sweaty and chill all at once as his sweat began to cool; his lips were chapped and Fuji's were equally rough against his own; and his glasses were steaming up while he had no idea what to do.

When Fuji pulled back, barely leaving centimetres between them, and met Tezuka's wide eyes, Tezuka finally got a grip of himself and overcame his surprise. He moved somewhat uncertainly, but reached to grip Fuji's shoulders firmly as he leant in and tried the kiss again.

Fuji's lips were still rough, and Tezuka's glasses still got in the way, but as their mouths slanted together that didn't really seem to matter so much anymore – it just felt exciting. Neither of them seemed prepared to close their eyes though, staring at each other as they kissed with the tentative promise of more. It seemed so strange to Tezuka that neither of them, usually fearless, was willing to take the step of deepening the contact, yet it simultaneously made perfect sense when it was so incredibly new to both of them as well.

This time when they broke apart it was more mutual. Fuji wasn't looking smug, as Tezuka might have expected, but he did seem infinitely pleased. Tezuka turned back to the sink to wash his face, feeling overheated again despite the time he'd had to cool down.

"You still have my bracelet," Tezuka said, to break the quiet. No doubt Fuji didn't mind the quiet, but it made Tezuka feel awkward, especially when he couldn't place how to feel about what had just happened. His stomach was in knots.

"Yes, I do," Fuji agreed, and Tezuka could hear the smile in Fuji's voice.

"I'd like it back," Tezuka told him plainly, though he did not extend his hand for it as he turned to Fuji once more. He anticipated that Fuji would refuse for the time being; that was just the way Fuji was.

Predictably, Fuji merely smiled. "I'm afraid I have to rush off now, so not yet."

"You aren't rushing very quickly," Tezuka observed dryly, trying to ignore the numb, tingly feeling in his lips. Even as he tried to make conversation, to banter in a way that was not entirely easy for him anyway, he couldn't stop thinking about kissing Fuji again. He suspected Fuji knew it, too.

"I don't suppose I am," Fuji said, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he stepped closer again. "I don't think you want me to, either."

Tezuka felt his face heat guiltily and he forced himself not to take a step back. He knew Fuji's duel wouldn't start for a while yet, but he also knew that Yuuta was supposed to face Kirihara soon. "I would like to witness Yuuta-kun's duel, as well."

Fuji tilted his head to the side, watching Tezuka with thoughtful calculation that made Tezuka feel inappropriately shivery. He abruptly wanted to be away from Fuji, get some real space to clear his head. He'd thought he'd needed it after his own duel, now he needed it twice as much.

"We'll continue this later," Fuji assured him, backing up and turning away. He headed for the exit, to Tezuka's relief, but then he paused and called back, "And this doesn't change anything Tezuka; I'm still going to beat you."

Tezuka knew he shouldn't smile in response to that, that he ought to have gripped the uncertainty and need for distance that had immediately preceded the statement, but he couldn't help himself. He smiled and he finally found his towel before heading for the shower.

A cold shower.

* * *

Fuji had felt inordinately pleased with himself as he left Tezuka behind in the changing rooms looking so gratifyingly dazed. He should therefore, he supposed, have anticipated a downhill turn of events would ensue. In a way he had – he had been looking forward to Yuuta and Kirihara's match with a degree of uncertainty – but that had already existed and was not exacerbated by the initial good turn of events. Yumiko would have been disappointed in him.

Rikkai Dai were already arrayed over their benches ready when Fuji arrived, Kirihara stalking up and down before them like a caged lion. Fuji was almost inclined to feel sorry for him at that point, because by and large his school looked uninterested and bored. Marui was popping gum as he looked around the room and chatted to Niou, who was perched behind him and smirking in such a way that there could be no doubt that not one word emerging from his mouth was nice. Jackal was seated beside Marui, occasionally contributing to the conversation, or so it would appear. Yagyuu was beside Niou, paging through some of the information about the tournament. Sanada was looking around the gym silently, serious as ever. Sanada would be facing Atobe later, however, so Fuji couldn't fault his focus.

Of all of them, only Yukimura was watching their alleged protégé, and only Yanagi was standing and speaking to Kirihara as he paced, causing the younger boy to glance up every time he passed. The clear respect and adulation Kirihara had for his senpai was just probably the only endearing quality Fuji had seen him display.

Across the room, Yuuta was seated beside Mizuki. At first glance he looked calm, but then Fuji noticed the restless tapping of his heel against the floor. Yuuta had that determined expression that Fuji was all too familiar with on his face though – the same one from lunchtime. Broaching the subject of nerves was not going to do Fuji any good, so he approached with a smile, "Yuuta."

"Fuji-kun," Mizuki greeted him before Yuuta could. Mizuki was smirking again, as if he knew a joke that no one else did, and twirling his hair around his finger. He looked even more irritating than last time they'd met. "How are you?"

"Well, thank you," Fuji told him politely, but focused on his brother. "Thank you again for lunch, Yuuta."

"You're welcome, aniki," Yuuta said, hands curled into fists at his sides on the bench. He hadn't put his gloves on yet. "You're facing Yanagi-san afterwards, right?"

"Yes, I am," Fuji confirmed.

"I'll beat Kirihara first," Yuuta vowed.

"You should go and prepare, Yuuta-kun," Mizuki told him, offering Yuuta his gloves.

"Good luck, Yuuta," Fuji said as Yuuta took the gloves and pulled them on.

Yuuta merely nodded to him, his attention fixed on the upcoming duel. It still felt strange to Fuji, to see Yuuta like this – growing up and competing, and growing in distance from his reliance on Fuji all the while. Yet at least they'd overcome the most difficult time, when Yuuta had struggled against him.

"He does not need luck," Mizuki asserted confidently.

"That's a very bold statement," Fuji replied, quiet so as not to be heard by his brother. Yuuta was rocking on his feet as he waited for the wire to be connected to his epée. He looked focused and dangerous, yet as confident as Fuji was that Yuuta was good, he knew that Kirihara had the faith of Yukimura and Sanada. Fuji didn't feel he was being disloyal to say that Mizuki was foolish to be so confident.

"You'll see," Mizuki told him.

Fuji smiled, proud as he watched Yuuta go through the salutes ready to commence. It was also good to see that Kirihara went through the salutes without protest, too, the pair donning their masks in unison. "I know how good Yuuta is, and how good he can be," Fuji said to Mizuki.

"At least he doesn't battle the same stigma as his brother," Mizuki replied with false pleasantry. Fuji had no doubt the barb was meant to have stung but, after his kiss with Tezuka in the changing room, Fuji didn't care.

Then the referee shouted play and Fuji glanced to Kirihara briefly. The boy was advancing with total confidence, the epée light and ready in his grip and his footwork impeccable. Fuji could see why Rikkai Dai put their faith in him. And yet Yuuta was advancing with the same confidence, his footwork a little less fluid but still admirable and his hold easy. It was uncharacteristic confidence in Yuuta.

"What have you done?" he asked Mizuki, not looking away from the two boys on the piste.

"Me?" Mizuki echoed, and the knowing smirk had returned to his voice. "Nothing at all."

Fuji didn't believe him for even a moment. He watched with growing dread as Yuuta and Kirihara clashed in a series of rapid exchanges. For all their speed, when it came it seemed to happen in slow motion. Yuuta parried and feinted twice, then, observing an opening at Kirihara's feet – a common target – lunged to strike. As Yuuta's epée struck Kirihara's leg, sounding the buzzer, Kirihara stepped forward, knocking Yuuta's epée aside with his own and slamming his knee into Yuuta's shoulder so he was spun and fell sideways with the force of the blow.

Fuji was on his feet in a split second. At his side, Mizuki had also sprung from the bench; his surprise did little to redeem him in Fuji's eyes though – the boy had clearly told Yuuta to go for Kirihara's feet in that way, knowing that there would be some risk to it but determined that Yuuta would get the point. Fuji was furious with him.

"Halt," called the referee. "Point to Fuji-kun. Are you ok to continue?"

Yuuta climbed to his feet and then reached up to grab his shoulder, nodding decisively and assuming ready stance once more.

Kirihara kicked the mat in irritation and threw his epée down. "It hit the mat!"

Not one of Rikkai Dai reacted or attempted to censor him at all.

"It was a point," said the referee, unmoved. "Pick up your blade and assume stance or forfeit."

Kirihara glared for a long moment, and the referee drew himself up in response. Kirihara gave in and stomped to fetch his blade in the end, but no one in the room had any doubt how he felt about it. It was as Kirihara had his back turned that Yuuta waved Fuji and Mizuki away.

Fuji was tempted to disregard it, but he didn't. He took his seat as the referee requested that each of participants be more careful, politely, and tried to shake the feeling of dread he felt; Kirihara would never let the taking of a point slide.

* * *

"Halt," called the referee. "Point to Kirihara."

As Tezuka entered the gym following his shower, it was in time to see one of the participants tumbling to the floor with his arm thrown out behind him instinctively. Across the piste from Tezuka, Fuji had sprung to his feet. He could therefore only assume it was Yuuta who had taken the fall, which would mean it was Kirihara who was still standing, pacing along the piste and swinging his epée carelessly.

"Can you continue Fuji-kun?" asked the referee.

Immediately Yuuta nodded, but he was cradling his arm as he struggled upright. He dropped his epée as soon as he tried to pick it up.

"Medic, please!" called the referee.

Fuji immediately ran out onto the piste, crouching low beside Yuuta.

"Go away, aniki!" Yuuta said angrily, but Fuji's reply was too soft for Tezuka to hear. It was clear from the tension in Fuji's back that he was furious, and it made Tezuka wonder what had happened to precede the fall. He knew Kirihara's reputation all too well.

"Yuuta-kun got the first point – someone, Mizuki I assume, told him to go for Kirihara-kun's feet through a combination of feints, so he got the point and a blow to the shoulder."

Tezuka did not manage to keep from jumping at the sound of Inui's voice, turning to see his friend stood leaning against the wall beside the door. He walked over to join him, gaze almost immediately slipping back to the participants.

"For the second point, just now, Kirihara went straight for Yuuta's face – he stumbled, fell and, I suspect, he's either sprained or fractured his wrist," Inui continued. "You did well against Mukahi."

"Thank you," Tezuka acknowledged, watching Fuji move aside for the medic to inspect the damage to Yuuta's wrist.

Kirihara had removed his faceguard and looked not the least repentant. None of his school had yet made any move to censure him either.

"Did something happen between you and Fuji?" Inui asked.

"No," said Tezuka, perhaps too quickly. "Why?"

"He looked rather pleased when he came in," Inui explained.

"I don't know anything about it," Tezuka lied. Then added, of Yuuta, "It looks like he's going to have to withdraw."

"Hmm? Oh, yes," Inui agreed. "Fuji will face Yanagi next."

Tezuka nodded, looking at Fuji's icy expression as he stood back from his brother. It was chilling, but Tezuka didn't think that the knot in his stomach had much to do with fear or cold. He almost felt sorry for Yanagi. "He's an old friend of yours, isn't he?"

"Once," said Inui, adjusting his glasses.

Out on the piste, the referee withdrew and the medic helped Yuuta up.

"The score stands at one-one. Fuji Yuuta withdraws, Kirihara Akaya wins by default," decreed the referee.

Neither participant looked at all pleased with the result. Kirihara stomped back to his school – there was no other word for it – and Yanagi rose to speak with him, placing a placating hand on his shoulder. Yuuta didn't look at his brother, or his schoolmate as Mizuki had faded back out of the way, simply turned and strode for the exit, accompanied by the medic.

As he reached Tezuka, Yuuta paused and looked at him directly. His manner was stiff, and it was difficult to divine whether his red cheeks were as a result of anger or embarrassment, but he said clearly, "I have to go to the hospital. Keep an eye on aniki."

Tezuka didn't know what to say, what Fuji might have revealed to his brother, so he simply nodded shortly, and then Yuuta was on his way with nothing more said.

* * *

Ten minutes later, changed into his protective clothing, Fuji's mood was no better. In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Yanagi congratulating Kirihara with a hint of pride. He was going to crush him.

"I'll meet you at the hospital afterwards nee-san," he assured Yumiko over the phone, his tone pleasant and mild as could be. He wasn't fooling her in the slightest, he knew, but he'd at least made a token effort.

"Syuusuke," she implored him, "Don't do anything rash."

"Fuji?" Tezuka called from outside the changing rooms.

"I have to go, Tezuka's here," Fuji told Yumiko, hanging up quickly. He knew she'd understand, and he'd make it up to her later. To Tezuka, he called, "In here."

"Fuji," Tezuka said again when he came into view. "How are you?"

Fuji smiled at him. "I'm fine."

Tezuka apparently didn't fall for it any more than Yumiko had. "Are you sure you should go ahead and face Yanagi now?"

"Quite sure." Fuji's assured him, running his fingertips lightly over Tezuka's bracelet where it was still fastened securely around his wrist. It was a low blow, but he knew teasing the other boy would derail his concentration on Fuji's mental state.

Tezuka averted his gaze, a faint pink colouring his cheeks.

"You're not going to ask for it back again?" Fuji asked.

"Would you give it to me?" Tezuka retorted, his gaze dark as he looked up at Fuji.

It was a challenge, and Fuji always rose to a challenge. In a matter of seconds he had closed the distance between them and had his hand buried in Tezuka's hair as he pressed their mouths together. It wasn't like earlier, this was desperate and messy and wet, and Fuji recognised too late the trap he'd been led into in order to permit him to vent his frustrations.

Fuji stepped back from Tezuka angrily, and turned his head so he could no longer see Tezuka's shiny, parted lips. He didn't manage to make it any further than that before Tezuka caught him though, holding his face in a bruising grip and kissing him hard. It wasn't something that Fuji would have believed Tezuka to be capable of before that moment, and after a second of protest he gave in to it.

"Captain? Inui's looking for you – where are you?"

While Tezuka broke away swiftly, still skittish despite that momentary confidence, Fuji stepped back slowly. He smiled wickedly, just to see Tezuka blush and look away.

"In here, Echizen," Tezuka called back. "I was just telling Fuji that they're waiting for him."

Fuji raised an eyebrow at the lie, but Tezuka wouldn't look at him so it made no difference. "I guess I best be off then," he said, as Echizen rounded the corner, pulling on his gloves and reaching for the epée and his mask.

"Good luck," Tezuka told him quietly, and Echizen nodded his agreement.

Fuji ran his fingers over the bracelet again unconsciously, inclined his head, and departed. He felt calmer as he walked away than when he had when he arrived, still simmering with rage over how Yuuta had been treated. Whatever had inspired Tezuka's moves, it had helped more than Fuji really liked to admit.

For the second time in only an hour, he was entering the gymnasium with pleasantly tingly lips. It was almost enough to take his mind off his irritation for a moment, and yet not quite. As he caught sight of Yanagi and Rikkai Dai, he tightened his grip on his mask and raised his epée to signify his readiness. He headed directly to his end of the piste and quickly attached the wire to his blade.

Everything outside of the referee and Yanagi faded from his awareness. The salutes were executed as if by rote and even the sound of the referee's call to play felt far off. When they sprang into motion it felt as though he was watching a tape on slow play. He knew, instinctively, without a shadow of a doubt that he could win, that he would win.

And so he did win.

* * *

Fuji left for the hospital before Tezuka could speak to him after he beat Yanagi. It was perhaps for the best since Tezuka doubted he'd be any more coherent that the girls that used to follow Echizen around in middle school.

He had sat beside Echizen and Inui in silence, the three of them watching the duel intently. Echizen had already faced Kamio and would be going on to the next round, so he'd been waiting to see how everyone else would do. Oishi had been beaten by Shishido while Kikumaru had yet to face Marui, and though Kaidoh had overcome Shinji and Kawamura had won against Kabaji, Momoshiro had been unlucky against Tachibana. Inui had drawn against Yukimura, so despite his calm as they watched, Tezuka had suspected they both knew he wasn't likely to get any further in the tournament.

In the end, he had been right and Inui had lost five points to none against Yukimura. Kikumaru had scraped through with five points to four, and Atobe had beaten Sanada by the same margin. Tezuka hadn't seen Echizen again after he went to congratulate Atobe. It had left him feeling slightly awkward to be left with Inui and Oishi after they'd both lost, even if Kikumaru had no such qualms. Kawamura had left early, staying at home despite the residential accommodation available.

So it was that Tezuka had retired early. It wasn't that his friends had been making him feel awkward on purpose, just that without opponents of their own, they'd been rather too focused on Tezuka's next one. He'd drawn against Yukimura the next day, and Fuji would be facing Echizen. Between the pair of them, out of all possible outcomes, it was by no means a certainty to be Tezuka and Fuji who met at the next round, it was even unlikely. And really, Yukimura was enough of a worry on his own without Tezuka wondering whether he should support Echizen or Fuji first and foremost in the other duel.

The problem was that staring at the ceiling got boring, and even Yukimura was not enough to prevent Tezuka's attention from drifting. He kept thinking of watching Fuji match up against Yanagi, and that made him restless. Or he'd think of how he'd been so forward as to kiss Fuji the way he had, and his face would suffuse with heat and he'd want to hide it against his pillow. Between the two, if he was honest, he was ending up quite horny. He was on the verge of sliding his hand guiltily beneath his waistband when the knock at the door came.

Initially he merely blinked and inched his way up, supporting himself on his elbows as he stared at the blurry shape of the door uncomprehendingly. Then the knock came again and he fumbled into action, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and switching on the bedside lamp before staggering over to the door. He was acutely aware of his state of undress, his boxers and t-shirt doing nothing to conceal what he'd been about to get up to, so he very carefully edged the door open only a few inches with his foot in the way so it would go no further. "Hello?"

"May I come in?" Fuji asked, smiling widely as though it was nothing out of the ordinary to turn up at ten of an evening at someone's room when they were in their nightclothes.

"Now isn't really—" Tezuka began.

"Tezuka," Fuji interrupted seriously, placing a hand on the door as if he was going to push it but not actually exerting any pressure. Tezuka was discovering within himself a weakness to Fuji being sincere in just this way.

"How is Yuuta-kun?" Tezuka asked, trying to will away the tent in his boxers so he could let Fuji in. Unfortunately, having Fuji in front of him looking just that little bit dishevelled from hours in the hospital waiting room didn't help.

"Are you really going to make me talk about this in the corridor?" Fuji asked, pointedly leaning back to glance right and left.

Tezuka knew he was being played, knew that he was at the end of the corridor and it was Echizen's (currently empty) room to the other side. Yet he let it happen anyway, he stepped back and let the door open. He removed himself quickly, taking up station behind the single high-back chair his room contained.

Fuji seemed uncertain of what to make of Tezuka's behaviour, following slowly with a bemused smile on his face. He closed the door behind him, glancing at Tezuka questioningly, "Tezuka?"

Tezuka held tight to the chair. "Have a seat."

Fuji raised an eyebrow, looking from the only chair (over which Tezuka was hovering) to the rumpled bed. He slowly unzipped his coat, hanging it on the back of the door, and then took a seat on the bed after a moment. That didn't help Tezuka at all.

"How is Yuuta-kun?" Tezuka asked again.

"He has a fractured wrist, but he'll be ok," Fuji told him, smoothing the sheet on either side of him with his hands. Then he pinned Tezuka with that piercing blue stare, "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Tezuka retorted, trying to ignore the way Fuji's hands were splayed against his bed.

Fuji appeared totally unconvinced. "I still have your bracelet," he pointed out, and patted the bed beside him. There was something decidedly wicked about his eyes and the curve of his mouth as he offered, "Come here and I'll give it back to you."

"That's alright," Tezuka said quickly. "You can keep it." Then, with dawning horror, he realised what he had said and amended, "For now."

"Come here," Fuji insisted.

"I'm alright," Tezuka replied, looking at the wall above Fuji's head. "What was it you wanted to see me about?"

Fuji had evidently had enough by that point and stood up again, advancing on Tezuka. "I'd like to know what's bothering you."

"Nothing," Tezuka told him, infusing as much confidence as he could manage under the circumstances into his voice. It did not have the desired effect: Fuji rounded the chair and Tezuka's grip on it became white knuckled.

Fuji didn't say anything right then, and in retrospect, looking back on it later, Tezuka had come to question if Fuji hadn't already realised precisely what the problem was for some time by that point. Determinedly, Fuji took Tezuka's hands in his, pulling him round so that they were facing each other.

Tezuka met Fuji's gaze, willing him not to look down. "What?"

Fuji, however, had never been in the habit of doing what Tezuka wanted, so he did look down and his smile returned with a vengeance. "Ah."

Tezuka knew he was blushing and he doubted it looked remotely attractive. He kept his gaze averted from Fuji and manfully resisted the urged to flee, but only because they were in his room and he had no idea where he would flee to.

"I think you should leave now," Tezuka said stiffly.

"Oh, Tezuka," Fuji said, managing to turn his name into a sigh. He didn't go away, instead releasing Tezuka's hands so he could cup his face and lean up to kiss him.

Although Tezuka initially went rigid in Fuji's hold, the kiss really wasn't the sort of dissuasion Tezuka's body needed to calm him down and help him focus. So, rather than pushing Fuji away like he should have done – as would have been most sensible – Tezuka found himself placing his hands on Fuji's waist to pull him closer. Rather than doing what he should have done, Tezuka was selfish and kissed Fuji back with a hunger he could honestly say he'd never before experienced. Awkward as their first kiss had been earlier that day, they already seemed to be learning each other better, their tongues sliding together slickly. It still wasn't perfect, but it felt better than that.

Fuji was incredibly warm and alive in Tezuka's hold. He'd slid one hand into Tezuka's hair again, as if he expected Tezuka to pull away and run if he weren't anchored in place, and the other was resting on Tezuka's lower back with intent.

Tezuka felt bold enough simply holding Fuji's waist if he were honest, but on the spur of the moment he decided to copy Fuji and slide one hand into Fuji's hair. He didn't seem to have quite Fuji's knack for it as his fingers caught on a few small tangles, but Fuji didn't seem to care. In fact, Fuji seemed fairly focused on backing Tezuka up against the wall, and it was, shamefully, not something Tezuka really noticed until the feat had been accomplished.

It was Fuji who broke the kiss, breathing heavily and pressing his face to Tezuka's throat as Tezuka let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk. It hurt, but since Fuji chose that moment to press his hips against Tezuka's, rubbing against Tezuka's erection and letting Tezuka feel Fuji's own against his thigh, Tezuka didn't really care that much.

" _Fuji_ ," he gasped, bucking into the contact as he found himself grabbing at Fuji's shoulders. He hadn't ever done anything like this before and if he stopped to think about it, Tezuka knew he'd have been horrified with his own behaviour – no amount of rationalising that he'd known Fuji all his life excused ending up like this in the space of a couple of days – but since Tezuka really wasn't interested in pausing to think, and Fuji wasn't interested in letting him even had he been, it didn't matter.

" _Shush_ ," Fuji told him, kissing him again. And it was still sloppy and wet, and there was saliva smeared around their mouths in a way that would have been truly disgusting in any other situation, but it was also just better and better.

Objectively, Tezuka had noticed Fuji's hands fumbling between them as he pressed their bodies together, but it still came as a shock when Fuji went ahead and yanked Tezuka's boxers down, resulting in an abrupt meeting between Tezuka's ass and the cold of the wall.

" _This wasn't_ —" Tezuka began in an urgent whisper, his lips feeling oddly swollen against Fuji's own as he spoke.

" _Shush_ ," Fuji said again, kissing Tezuka's jaw and his neck, and nipping in a way that wasn't really pleasant and stung a bit, but which Tezuka wasn't really in any state to bother protesting about.

Tezuka was much more preoccupied with the fact that his hard dick was exposed between them and Fuji's fingers kept brushing it tantalisingly. Then, finally, Fuji took it properly in hand alongside what Tezuka surmised was Fuji's own cock; he hadn't looked down, preferring to keep his eyes closed so that he was a little removed from the situation and might somehow manage to deal with it in the morning.

"Help me," Fuji instructed, as if he knew what Tezuka was doing. He bit Tezuka's chin lightly, making him open his eyes wide and meet Fuji's dark and needy gaze. "Now," said Fuji, sounding strained and hoarse.

Tezuka didn't blame him, his voice hitching around a moan every time he tried to speak so that nothing would come out. He couldn't really think of much beyond the fact that Fuji's cock was pressed against his own and Fuji's hand was stroking them off together and it all felt maddening because it wasn't quite _enough_.

He reached between them and added his own hand uncertainly, finding it incredibly awkward at first as he tried to fit his strokes with Fuji's own. Eventually, after fumbling for some moments, they found a rough but workable pace and leaned into each other as they jointly jerked themselves off.

It all felt as though it was a dream to Tezuka, so removed was it from reality. Fuji's body was such a warm and solid presence against him, Fuji's breathing and pleasured noises so close to his ear and Fuji's cock so hot and hard against his own. It was intoxicating, overpowering, and Tezuka was so incredibly close to coming that it only took the briefest brush of Fuji's thumb across the tip of his cock and his balls were tightening and he was spilling over their clothes and hands, " _Fuji_."

Fuji kissed him hard, continuing to hold Tezuka's hand in place and stroke them both even whilst Tezuka's knees stopped co-operating. Fuji wasn't far behind him in the end anyway, grunting softly and coming hard in Tezuka's hand as his grip tightened and he moaned Tezuka's name.

Spent and trembling, Fuji simply let himself collapse against Tezuka as he recovered, an arm looped about Tezuka's neck to keep himself upright. Tezuka allowed it, too buzzed and exhausted to care, he even wrapped an arm around Fuji's waist in turn.

Fuji was shivery and breathless in his arms, a warm and welcome weight against Tezuka that made him feel all manner of happiness. His thoughts were struggling to reach coherency, centred around the certain knowledge that Fuji had just given him one of the best orgasms he'd ever had, and how much better they were with someone else pressed against him. He kept waiting for Fuji to speak and half-dreading it happening, but it never came, and Tezuka realised it was going to be down to him to break the moment.

When Tezuka found his voice, still feeling stupidly pleased, it was only to discover he still felt shy as he said somewhat awkwardly, "We should clean up."

Fuji laughed, a whispery breathless sound, and looked up at Tezuka with an enigmatic expression that Tezuka couldn't read at all. His eyes were liquid though, and, for one rare moment, Fuji looked needy.

"Stay," Tezuka said on impulse, before Fuji could speak. "I'll lend you something clean."

"Ok." Fuji smiled and pressed a light and chaste kiss to Tezuka's lips, "I'll get a washcloth."

Tezuka merely watched him walk away to the sink for a moment, smiling at the image of Fuji walking around all undone and the idea of their being together. Then he realised what he was doing and blushed, wiping his hands on his t-shirt to clean them and then yanking his boxers up for the time being. He went to his drawers to find fresh clothes, tossing one set on the bed. He had the second in his hands when Fuji returned and, without waiting for permission, eased Tezuka's boxers back down and cleaned him off gently.

"Have you seen tomorrow's draws?" Tezuka asked Fuji's bowed head, the words tumbling from his lips without his consent.

Fuji stiffened, freezing for a moment before finishing off the task he'd set himself. He didn't straighten up when he was done, sinking instead to the floor and easing Tezuka's boxers down entirely as he went, evidently expecting Tezuka to step out of them helpfully. Tezuka had never felt more exposed, but he complied.

"I have," Fuji said at length, straightening up.

"And?" Tezuka asked as he stepped away, tugging on the fresh boxers once Fuji was no longer sharing his personal space. There was silence in response and he didn't want to prod Fuji so he went on to change his t-shirt without pause. It was part way over his head when Fuji responded.

"Let's wait and see," Fuji said, and it somehow managed to create rocks in Tezuka's stomach, almost shaking him from his lethargic state of mind.

Tezuka finished changing and looked at Fuji. He felt uncertain, but he did his best to conceal the fact behind a carefully blank mask. The other boy was already finished changing, looking oddly unthreatening in Tezuka's slightly too large clothing. It was clear that Fuji had nothing more to say about the subject as he met Tezuka's gaze with a pleasant smile, a softness, that somehow disguised Fuji's wilful refusal to engage about the subject.

"Ok," Tezuka conceded, knowing that in reality he couldn't have continued the topic of conversation anyway, not when Fuji was unwilling to participate. For want of anything better to say, he merely repeated, "Ok."

* * *

"And where were you last night?" Oshitari enquired, though his smirk seemed to suggest he knew exactly what the answer to that question was going to be.

Fuji had spent the night with Tezuka, but then left before the other boy awoke in order to go and prepare for his duel. He'd spent the first hour getting himself into the right mindset, and now Oshitari had caught up with him as he grabbed a swift breakfast. He simply gave Oshitari a look, not wishing to insult the other boy's intelligence by denying what he'd implied.

"Your silence speaks volumes," Oshitari needled.

"And where was Echizen last night?" Fuji asked mildly, peeling the banana he'd picked up. "Meditating on our upcoming match I hope."

"How should I know?" Oshitari enquired with false ignorance. "He's not from my school."

Fuji snorted in a most ungentlemanly manner.

"Fuji," Oshitari said seriously, stopping when they got outside so that Fuji was forced to halt as well and look at him. He adjusted his glasses. "You'll piss a lot of people off if you fulfil their expectations."

"I know," Fuji told him, smiling broadly, and took a bite from his banana.

Oshitari's mouth thinned into a line as he regarded him, clearly unhappy with that response.

"Are you coming?" Fuji asked after swallowing his mouthful. He jerked his head toward the gym.

"Of course," Oshitari said, resuming walking. Fuji had half-expected his tone to be several degrees cooler than usual, but it wasn't.

"How doomed am I?" Fuji enquired.

"Incredibly," Oshitari told him, tones equally pleasant.

"That's comforting then," Fuji observed dryly.

Oshitari merely laughed.

When they reached the gym, Echizen was already there. So was Momoshiro – the first time Fuji had seen him since Momoshiro had attacked him. In fact, all of Seigaku _except Tezuka_ seemed to be assembled to watch. An absence made only more obvious by the presence of a number of members of Hyotei, including their captain. Fuji did his best to ignore the discomfort that accompanied the fact of Tezuka's absence; he'd done nothing more than leave to prepare for the day's events, nothing _wrong_.

Momoshiro was refusing to look at him, which was unsurprising. What _was_ surprising was the renewed hostility in Echizen's expression, and the disappointment in Atobe's when he looked at him.

"Do your best," Oshitari told him, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away to join them. There was no doubt about who he was really supporting.

Fuji had been left on his own before, though; he was adept at supplying himself with his own internal pep-squad. If he were honest with himself, he'd even expected to be on his own from the start, so while his time with Hyotei was a welcome reprieve the previous day, he'd never have expected them to support him against one of their own anyway. He smiled and raised his hand to Echizen, "Let's have a good bout."

Echizen didn't respond, expression turning derisive before he looked away.

Fuji lowered his hand and continued on to go and get ready. He'd never actually seen Echizen participate, but after Tezuka's reaction last night he'd become concerned. Tezuka had seen Fuji at his best against Yanagi Renji, yet he still expected that it was going to be Echizen who sailed through. Fuji was trying not to admit to jealousy of Tezuka's unfailing confidence in the boy, but, he was determined to shipwreck Echizen this round.

So it was that he prepared himself with a cool, calculated determination to win. The only moment in which that façade dropped was when Yuuta – his arm in a cast – and Yumiko entered the gym to sit on the benches to support him. He could not deny that their presence meant a great deal to him, even if Yumiko's worry threatened to rattle his calm.

Echizen, up to the point when his expression was concealed behind his faceguard, looked the picture of cocky, confident calm. His cool disdain was evidently reserved specially for Fuji.

Well, Fuji was quite determined to wipe that smug smirk from the boy's lips, and it was with that focus that he had taken his place at the end of the piste ready to begin. Nothing else mattered but overcoming the obstacle in front of him; an obstacle between he and Tezuka meeting on the piste.

"On guard," cried the referee, shattering the silence. "Are you ready? Play!"

And so the bout was on. Fuji advanced with his usual fluid grace, confident of his ability, confident that he would not be the reason that he and Tezuka would not face each other.

Too confident.

He had lost sight of the opponent in front of him.

Echizen scored the first point within seconds.

* * *

Tezuka had gone into the upper gallery to watch Echizen and Fuji match up. Echizen knew of it, and he understood why all too well after turning up to wake Tezuka that morning only to be called 'Fuji'. Tezuka was still kicking himself for that, but it wasn't as though Echizen would gossip about him. Even Atobe would only have been told as much as he needed to know – that, in Echizen's words, Fuji had proven himself a screwed up bastard.

It was slim comfort, and Tezuka had found himself once again wishing that he could have set his sights on something simpler, something easier and more trustable, when he finally felt that way about anyone. Yet when he'd tried to imagine himself with any of his friends, anyone but Fuji, it had felt wrong and awkward. He was willing to acknowledge that half of that might simply be because some of the more obvious alternative options to Fuji – like Atobe and Echizen – had so clearly found something that worked with each other already.

Tezuka was angry and hurt. It was as simple as that. Angry with Fuji for disappointing him, and angry with himself for expecting anything else when Fuji was so clearly competitive. Fuji had never pretended it was anything special, he had never tried to make it romantic, he'd simply said that he'd come to have Tezuka, to beat Tezuka. And it was Tezuka, foolishly being selfish and indulging in something he wanted, who had imagined there to be more and had set expectations Fuji could never have reached.

So Tezuka watched in silence, unable even to relish the way Echizen was beating Fuji. He had expected it – he knew how good Echizen was – but even so, he was still surprised by how vicious Echizen was being. He was also flattered by his friend's protectiveness.

It wasn't entirely one-sided. Fuji was also good, but he seemed to have lost himself and that was handicapping him. It made it bitter to watch, to think that not only had Fuji acted the way he had, but he couldn't even manage to get himself through to the next round so he might potentially have faced Tezuka for that sought after duel.

Tezuka left after Echizen won the fourth point in a row and the deal was as good as sealed. He avoided the glances of Fuji's family when he rose, for Yuuta and Yumiko noticed him where Fuji had not done so. He didn't want to see or speak to any of them. He hated to be made into a fool.

Outside, he got himself an iced tea from the drinks machine and parked himself on the wall under a nearby tree. He knew Oishi had seen him leave too, and had followed him outside, so he waited quietly.

"You aren't going to say good bye?" Oishi enquired tentatively, when he got close enough.

Tezuka didn't let his surprise show, disguising it behind taking a sip of his drink. It was unlike Oishi to be quite so direct. When he'd swallowed the mouthful, he said coolly, "No, I'm not." Oishi thankfully seemed to realise that the chill in Tezuka's tone was not directed at him.

The silence held after that, a companionable one. Tezuka drank his drink and Oishi took a seat beside him. Tezuka pretended he wasn't counting the minutes ticking by until Fuji would have left. Once that happened, he could go back to the gym and congratulate Echizen as though he was wholly happy for him. Then he would face Yukimura.

"He was off his game, not like yesterday." Oishi said at length, though it was obvious who he was speaking about. "Did something happen?"

Tezuka wasn't feeling generous; if Oishi was going to ask dumb questions then, "Nothing, Oishi."

Oishi sighed and said gently, "I know it did."

Tezuka wanted to say something snide, something mean, but it wasn't his style and Oishi had always been the very kindest of his friends. "I have to focus on facing Yukimura."

"I know," Oishi said again, the sigh silent this time. He placed his hand on Tezuka's arm as he added, "But some things are more important than winning."

Oishi didn't know, couldn't have known, but the comment stung incredibly and Tezuka yanked his arm away before he could think better of it. Yes, some things were more important than winning, _but only to Tezuka_. Fuji had made that quite clear when he'd refused to broach the subject.

"I have to get ready," he told Oishi, rising and walking away. He paused after five paces though, not wanting to leave Oishi hurt, as he knew his friend would be. "Winning is what matters to him, Oishi."

Tezuka didn't look back after that though, didn't give Oishi a chance to reply, because Oishi was a hopeless romantic and he might manage to sway him into letting himself get hurt again. Tezuka wouldn't let that happen.

Fuji had gone by the time he returned to the gym, and Tezuka told himself he didn't care where. It was now Niou and Kirihara's turns to battle it out, and only the briefest glance was needed to inform Tezuka that Kirihara was being far less violent toward his senpai than he had in his previous duels with Fuji, Yuuta and Tachibana.

Tezuka didn't linger to appreciate their skill, not when Yukimura was nowhere in sight and therefore clearly readying himself. He went to make himself ready, too, pausing only to congratulate a smug looking Echizen with the briefest clasp of his shoulder before moving on.

Over the past year, Yukimura had seemed to go from strength to strength in his abilities. Tezuka knew that this could be the biggest struggle he would face, especially since Yukimura would want to prove Rikkai Dai after both Yanagi and Sanada had gone out so prematurely. It was simply that Tezuka had something to prove as well – he needed to salvage something from the experience.

"Do your best, Captain," Echizen said to him, smiling.

Tezuka thought of Yukimura, of the raw power and cultivated talent the other boy possessed, and he found it in him to smile back. His best was exactly what he intended to do.

There was something deceptively innocent, something disarming, about Yukimura when he was clad in the white of the fencing kit. He looked angelic, as though he'd not harm a fly, as though he couldn't be viciously ambitious. Even well as he knew it, Tezuka almost doubted the knowledge as he looked at him across the piste. He wondered if that was why so many people lost to Yukimura, because they were beguiled into believing he was fragile and weak.

Tezuka wasn't going to allow himself to be fooled anymore, though, he determined that even before they saluted and put their masks on. He was going to win, he thought as he sank into stance like he was slipping back into his favourite pair of boots. It was a comforting and familiar fit that would carry him safely over the difficult times ahead. Even the wire that so often irritated him, trailing from the back of his weapon to electronically record all the hits, faded in importance as he focused on what was ahead.

"On guard!" shouted the referee. "Are you ready? Play!"

Yukimura's footwork as he advanced was as light and agile as could be. His epée was held confidently, as if it weighed nothing, and the tip flashed to and fro in the light as its wielder sought an opening. Tezuka couldn't see Yukimura's face, but he could imagine the determination and focus – both were reflected in the other boy's every move.

Yet Tezuka was not going to supply that sought after opening. His own footwork was just as light, his moves equally as fast and his grip every bit as confident. He also had the advantage of greater reach than Yukimura, while Yukimura had the perfect vision that he had not.

Their blades were almost a blur, the clash of their meeting so rapid as to become indistinguishable in Tezuka's ears. Under his mask, the sweat beaded along his upper lip and hairline. Then he saw it, that split second opportunity to strike his blow and take the first point.

Expectation was stacked against him, but it would simply make victory all the sweeter.

* * *

"Just say it," Fuji said tiredly. Though his face was turned against the glass, he was acutely aware of the looks Yumiko kept shooting him when she should have had her eyes on the road. The silence had been thick and awkward since they'd gotten in the car – Yuuta had opted out of travelling home with them and gone to find Mizuki. Fuji didn't think much of the excuse, but he didn't really blame Yuuta for wishing to avoid the atmosphere either.

"Don't take that tone with me," Yumiko retorted, her voice as mild as could be despite the words.

Fuji didn't reply. He knew he was being sullen and childish, but he was confused and that made him angry. In as long as he could remember, he'd never been uncertain of anything. Now, leaving Tezuka behind with everything unresolved, his stomach was in knots. He couldn't even pretend he was merely bothered by Echizen beating him.

"He was there, Syuusuke," Yumiko informed him, her manner offhand as though such valuable information didn't matter. "He was up in the gallery until Echizen-kun got his fourth point."

"So?" Fuji asked, trying to sound as though he couldn't care less despite the fact his heart seemed to have leapt at the thought.

"So stop being a bloody moron," Yumiko snapped, finally losing her temper as she did a u-turn in the middle of the street, car horns blaring around them.

"Nee-san!" Fuji clutched his seat and seat-belt, staring in disbelief. His heart had leapt to his throat, far less pleasantly this time, and his life was flashing before his eyes as he saw the other drivers whizzing past as they spun. All around them, the sound of tyres screeching against the road as people swerved to avoid them echoed. Fuji had never in his life felt so out of control and scared.

"You're going back and you're going to apologise for whatever you did," Yumiko told him firmly, not the least ruffled by the risk she'd just taken. Unfortunately for Fuji, she seemed to have taken it personally that he'd managed to screw up quite so extensively despite being warned. Fuji rather suspected that his hanging up on her yesterday hadn't helped his case either.

"I don't get a choice in the matter?" Fuji asked, unable to keep from being amused despite the way his heart was thudding in his chest – he suspected it was more borderline hysteria than amusement if he were honest.

"No," retorted Yumiko, putting her foot down – literally; the car sped up and Fuji's grip on his seat tightened.

After that, Fuji wisely kept his mouth shut. He never had and never would win an argument with his sister when she was set on something.

And so Fuji found himself edging into the gym ten minutes later to see the final moments of Tezuka and Yukimura's combat. It was positively breathtaking.

* * *

"Halt! Point to Tezuka Kunimitsu, Tezuka Kunimitsu wins six points to five," called the referee to resounding silence.

Tezuka was hunched over, exhausted in the aftermath of it. Fuji watched as he tugged his faceguard off and let it drop to the floor as Echizen approached him with a towel and a smug grin. Yukimura was looking equally exhausted as he stripped away his own mask, but he was smiling. It had clearly been a good fight for them both. To go into an extra minute and six points, it had to have been amazing.

Still, Fuji hung back as the gym began to clear, a brief recess for referee and participants. Yukimura was helped away by Sanada, and Tezuka merely seated himself on a nearby bench for a moment.

Fuji had never been shy, but he knew the chances of Tezuka hearing him out were even slimmer with an audience than without. He waited until the gym was as empty as it was going to get and made his way inside. "Tezuka?"

Fuji ignored the way Echizen bristled, and the way Oshitari and Atobe looked over in surprise. Fuji's concentration was on Tezuka and Tezuka alone, watching the tension seize that tall, thin form.

"Tezuka," Fuji repeated. "I need to talk to you."

Still Tezuka hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, but it seemed evident Fuji's appearance had soured his victory.

Fuji tried his luck anyway, moving closer still as he said, "I want to apologise."

Tezuka stood abruptly, grabbing his faceguard from the bench.

"I made a mistake," Fuji forged on. He was ignoring their audience, following his sister's advice as best he could. "You deserved better."

"That's it?" Tezuka asked.

"I'm sorry," Fuji said, smiling because he didn't know what else to do.

"So?" Tezuka looked at him, expression totally blank. "I don't care."

Fuji's smile vanished as he abruptly realised how wrongly it might have been taken. He felt lost in the face of his inability to read Tezuka – he'd _always_ been able to read Tezuka until now. It was with an air of helplessness that he hated, especially with an audience, that he tried again, "I said I was sorry."

Tezuka didn't give an inch verbally, though the hurt that broke through his mask to flicker through his eyes was palpable. "I don't care."

Fuji stared in disbelief as Tezuka turned and started striding away from him, unable to understand why Tezuka was running from him when he so clearly wanted what Fuji was offering him. In that moment, white-hot anger took hold that Tezuka was so wilfully hurting them both when Fuji was as good as down on his knees. Fuji was immediately after him, running until he could reach Tezuka's shoulder and spin him around. Still caught in his own hurt, he slapped Tezuka sharply across the face before he could think any better of it.

Tezuka reeled from the blow. He stayed twisted away, frozen in surprise for long moments. Then, despite his spent and sweaty state, he enunciated distinctly, "Get your blade. Echizen to referee." His tone was nothing short of glacial.

Fuji blinked, shocked with himself at what he'd done. It was only when Tezuka strode past him that he came to life, turning to look after Tezuka. Softly, but with undeniable certainty, he said, "I don't want to duel you."

"What?" Tezuka had paused again, but he was actively listening now.

"Not like this," said Fuji. He was speaking the utter truth and had never felt so exposed. "It's not important. It's not why I came back."

"Why did you?" Tezuka asked him, staring at Fuji intently.

Fuji knew the answer he wanted to give immediately, but he wasn't sure if Tezuka would allow it. He was almost holding his breath, just as he held Tezuka's gaze, as he closed the space between them. He took courage from the fact that Tezuka didn't back up from him at all, even when he was right in his face and reaching to take Tezuka's face in his hands.

"You mean more," Fuji told, infusing as much earnest sincerity into the declaration as he could before pulling Tezuka into a rather desperate kiss.

After agonizing moments, Tezuka returned it.

* * *

"Well?" Yumiko asked when Fuji returned to the car, the sound of the whistles of Tezuka's club mates still echoing in his ears and the image of Tezuka's blush still ripe in his mind. "Syuusuke?"

Fuji simply beamed at Yumiko, dropping into the passenger seat without a word and pulling his seatbelt across himself.

Yumiko regarded him knowingly. "You're welcome."

Fuji positively grinned. Everything hadn't been resolved, not at all, but there'd been a promise and there was a future. That was all he could ask for really after the mess that had occurred in the last few days. With everything still so tentative, it had seemed best not to stay and see out the competition for fear of being a distraction. That didn't matter though: Fuji felt like they'd already won.


End file.
